Centennials
by Sonya Omun
Summary: New: 7 New Messages - Soubi isn't one to let a perfectly good opportunity go to waste. Collection of drabbles with a set word count.
1. Content Page

These pieces are a selection of works with a word count of one hundred, or a multiplication thereof, capping at a thousand words. A brief summation of each chapter can be found on this page. Please enjoy!

**CONTENT**

**1. - Content page**

******2.** **-** **Chess –** A game of strategy and wit.

**3. -** **Cleanly Fumes** – Soubi discovers the cleansing properties of a dirty habit.

**4. -** **Cognition** – Sometimes, Soubi forgets.

**5. -** **Logistics** – Soubi's problem solving skills are not to Ritsuka's liking.

**6. -** **Magnum Opus** – Some pictures colour the painter, instead of the other way around.

**7. -** **Misunderstandings** – Soubi pays an unexpected visit to Ritsuka.

**8. -** **Progress** – Soubi hasn't given up on the hope of teaching Ritsuka what it means to be a Sacrifice.

**9. -** **New Message **- Even something as simple as text messaging can be vexing if it involves Soubi.

**10. -** **O is For **- Ritsuka discovers a fitting word to describe Soubi.

**11. - Inner Workings** - Soubi is not one to voice his thoughts.

**12. - Vice Versa** - There are two sides to everything.

**13. - Hazardous** - Soubi knows it's best to keep his guard up around Kio.

**14. - Antipodal** - Sacrifice and Fighter both have their part to play.

**15. - Exchange** - Seimei discusses Soubi's art.

**16. - Remarkable **- Soubi was supposed to be blank.

**17. - Hysterics** - It would have been funny. On anyone else.

**18. - New Tradition** - Soubi notices a new holiday trend.

**19. - His Flame** - Not all heat can burn Soubi.

**20. - Revelation** - Kio knows more than Soubi thinks.

**21. - Celebrations** - Kio shouldn't have expected anything else from Soubi.

**22. - Well Spoken** - Soubi and Kio have their own language.

**23. - Cruel and Unusual** - Ritsuka has his own way of dealing with Soubi.

**24. - 2 New Messages** - Desperate times call for desperate measures.

**25. - Ink** - Ritsuka never liked his real name, and he thought Soubi knew that.

**26. - Non Verbal** - With words unforthcoming, Soubi learns to mind Seimei's body language.

**27. - First Aid** - Kio had to learn early on what it takes to be Soubi's friend.

**28. - 3 New Messages** - Kio is nothing if not persistent.

**29. - Speech Impediment** - Soubi has a way with words, but what about Ritsuka?

**30. - Fantastic** - The most powerful word spells are the lies Soubi tells himself.

**31. - Celebrations II** - Seimei isn't one for surprises. That won't dissuade Soubi, though.

**32. - 4 New Messages** - Sometimes there are reminders that Nisei is still a work in progress.

**33. - Speaking Freely** - Soubi and Ritsuka discuss personal philosophies.

**34. - Dutch Courage -** A liquor fuelled Kio tries to push his luck.

**35. - Morning After **- There's a certain technique to mollifying a vexed Kio.

**36. - Artistic Differences** - Soubi has been known to take liberties. Artistic liberties, of course.

**37. - Present Absence **- The response to one's absence can be as telling as the response to one's presence.

**38. - Obliging** - As Seimei's Fighter, Nisei knows it is Seimei that makes the decisions. Sometimes he simply needs some help doing so.

**39. - Expressionism -** Seimei questions Soubi about his viewpoint on art.**  
**

**40. - Joyous** - A butterfly can be reborn more than once.

**41. - 5 New Messages** - A nicotine deprived Kio strikes back. To Soubi's horror.

**42. - Deprived** - He may care about Soubi's health and well being, but even Ritsuka has his limits.

**43. - Fool - **After receiving a strange message from Soubi, Ritsu sets out to investigate.

**44. - Foolish -** Ritsu seeks out Soubi for a friendly chat after the blond's prank.

**45. - Nepotism - **Soubi eagerly leaps at an opportunity to be of service to his Sacrifice.

**46. - 6 New Messages -** Sometimes, Soubi has to skew the odds in his favour to get the attention he seeks.

**47. - Killing With Kindness** - Ritsuka is the only one of Soubi's masters that disciplines him unwittingly.

**48. - Celebrations III -** The most common thing can turn abnormal when you're friends with Soubi.

**49. - Good Day -** Being with Seimei taught Soubi to appreciate the little things.

**50. -7 New Messages **- Soubi isn't one to let an opportunity go to waste.


	2. Chess

**CENTENNIALS  
100: Chess**

In chess; white moves first.

'Whatever you say, Ritsuka.'

Then black.

'Don't say that.'

'Why not?'

'It's a lie.'

'It's true.'

'You only take orders when you want to.'

'I'm sorry, Ritsuka. I'll be more obedient.'

'N-no! That's not what I want!'

'Then what do you want?

'I...'

'Tell me.'

'Y-you have to decide for yourself what you want.'

'Ah. I want what Ritsuka wants.'

'Soubi!'

'Is that wrong?'

'Y-yes!'

'You can order me to think for myself, Ristuka.'

'Soubi...'

'You sound tired, Ristuka.'

'You should make your own choices.'

'I choose you, Ritsuka.'

Check.

'I love you.'

And mate.

**A/N: As always: constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. **


	3. Cleanly Fumes

**CENTENNIALS**

**200: Cleanly Fumes**

The first drag made his head spin.

Soubi clenched his jaw to stop from coughing as a wave of nausea flushed up from his stomach, which suddenly felt directly connected to his lungs.

He could feel the smoke inside him, a pressure in his chest that pushed outwards, to freedom. Soubi held.

It was control. Ignoring the spasm of his midriff as his body demanded oxygen.

Just like it was control to still his body in anticipation for the next impact of the whip. To feel the fresh scars on his back, skin stretched tight, be flayed away, only to be replaced by more scars and have the whole process start over again.

It was control. Fighting the urge to cough and take big gulps of inviting air.

Just like it was control to subdue the impulse to retch, feeling his teacher's breath across his jawline getting faster.

Control. Not looking at the newly empty places where his ears used to be, afterwards, when fixing his dishevelled hair in the mirror.

He exhaled slowly. Controlled. The smoke on his tongue leaving a taste slightly less ashen than before.

It was the first time Soubi smoked. Ritsu would have been proud.

**A/N: Please point out any grammar or spelling mistakes, constructive criticism appreciated. **


	4. Cognition

**CENTENNIALS**

**300: Cognition**

Soubi keeps his eyes downcast after the battle is over.

The trampled snow in the park is a frozen slab of dirty white, hiding the grass of spring and the leaves of fall.

Droplets of red stain the snow at his feet with a patter. The light of the lamppost that tries – and fails - to fend off the midwinter's darkness makes the drops look black, but Soubi knows they're red.

The warmth of the already thickening liquid trailing down his fingers returns scalding sensation to skin bitten numb by a thousand freezing jaws of cold.

Soubi wishes he could wipe his hands on the tip of his scarf, but the presence behind him renders him unable to show such weakness, or move.

Soubi pays it no mind. He waits, not looking at the figure standing close, translucent skin and hair so black it puts the surrounding night to shame.

The bellowing of the trees, hissing and rustling under the barrage of the winds nearly drowns out the soft question.

'Are they dead?'

Soubi has to swallow twice before answering. It hurts.

'No.'

A vicious swipe of the winds tugs at Soubi's hair and he can imagine icy fingers punishing him, while the watching trees shake in disapproval for his carelessness.

Footsteps approach from behind and Soubi's breathing speeds up.

The hand touching his cheek catches him completely off guard. The touch is tentative, soft, and Soubi nearly gasps aloud at the simple caress, temple to jaw.

'Good.'

The winds seem to die down at the single word of praise.

Soubi looks up, finding dark eyes, warmly laced with uncertainty.

'Because I don't want us to be like that, remember?' Ritsuka's hand is still on Soubi's face.

Suddenly, the night doesn't seem as cold, or as dark. Soubi remembers.

**A/N: As always: comments greatly appreciated.**


	5. Logistics

**CENTENNIALS**

**200: Logistics**

'Soubi! You're not sleeping on the couch!'

I still smile, even though his voice has now risen to a shout.

'You are my guest, Ritsuka. You take the bed and I will sleep on the couch.'

'No! You won't!'

'Ah. The floor then?'

Interestingly, the colour drains from Ritsuka's face, before flooding back, doubled.

'What? No!'

'Whatever Ritsuka decides is fine.'

He sets his jaw and tries logic.

'I'm smaller than you, I can sleep on the couch.'

'But I want my Sacrifice to be comfortable.'

Mistake. I see it in his eyes and avert mine.

'You always make it about that!'

'I'm sorry, Ritsuka.'

'Maybe I don't care about that! Maybe I'm comfortable knowing you're comfortable!'

Ritsuka's voice rises shrilly and cracks on the last two words. He quickly turns away from me, tightly crossing his arms across his chest.

My expression falters and I'm glad Ritsuka's not looking as I school my face into my usual smile.

'Then, Ritsuka wishes to share the bed with me?'

Ritsuka keeps his expression admirably aggravated, though his colour, miraculously, manages to darken.

Stark silence follows and I'm careful to appear amicably neutral as my palms begin to dampen.

Then, softly:

'Yes.'

**A/N: All comments and critiques welcome!**


	6. Magnum Opus

**CENTENNIALS**

**600: Magnum Opus**

Soubi was never one for expressionism.

He was, of course, familiar with the concept and would have gladly done the assignment, if the teacher had specified what to express.

'Keep your brush moving, Sou-chan,' Kio had advised him over the phone, 'don't think about it, just do it.'

Kio had finished his painting in two afternoons, a mass of swirling blues streaked with shards of white and silver and, hidden in the restless brush strokes, dots of red.

Soubi looks over his pallet, waiting for something to call to him. With only three days left until the due date, he has to start today. The clock tells him he has about five more hours to paint before going to see Ritsuka.

Kio's words in mind; Soubi dabs paint onto his brush and sets it to the canvas.

He tries not to think about it, simply letting his hand move, focussing on the scraping of the coarse hairs.

With a practised move he swishes the brush through a jar of clean water before retracing his strokes, blotching them. Soubi had always preferred water colour to oil painting. It feels fitting, as he himself is diluted, watered down until the desired effect is reached.

The brush moves seemingly on its own accord and Soubi no longer sees the canvas, only the coloured working of his thoughts. The strokes become more forceful as he twists deeper into himself.

Something pulls him down and holds, warm and bright, a sensation that fills him until choking, but that's all right, because that's how it's supposed to be.

Soubi gasps and the brush falls unnoticed from his hand, staining his socks and the floor. He tries to find something to latch onto, to pull away from himself. His eyes find the painting.

The canvas is divided in two spaces of watered down colour. One part a bleak grey and blue with occasional flecks of soft yellow, the other part a rich wine colour, darkening outward to purple and brown, laced with black near the edge of the canvas.

The two fields of colour meet in bright red, thickly coated, striking and raw like a fresh wound, it coils across the painting like a playful ribbon.

Soubi stares at it, again feeling the unnameable torrent of pressure in his chest, the sweetest pain, just over his heart.

'Soubi?'

Soubi whips around. The world keeps spinning even after he stops moving to look at the figure standing in the doorway.

'Ritsuka?'

Soubi's voice sounds hoarse, as though he hasn't used it in a long time and Soubi wonders how much time has passed.

'You didn't answer my knocks,' Ritsuka explains, sounding apologetic and holding up the key Soubi had given him.

'Did I forget?'

Soubi's hands are shaking and he has trouble thinking through the urgent need bubbling up inside of him. The need to weep, or perhaps burst out laughing, to fall to his knees before Ritsuka, or to pick him up and twirl him around.

The sweet pain again chimes from Soubi's heart, high, clear, like a silver bell.

'No, you didn't,' Ritsuka shuffles uncomfortably and audibly draws a shuddering breath. 'I suddenly wanted to come to you. I got this really strange feeling.'

His eyes gleam with a touch of unshed tears and he brushes his fingers over his heart.

'Can I stay with you?' Ritsuka takes an uncertain step forward, confusion marring his features, hand still on his chest.

Soubi almost lifts Ritsuka off his feet into a tight embrace, pushing their chests together. Ritsuka's arms tighten around him and their hearts meet.

'Always.'

**A/N: Always feel free to comment.  
**


	7. Misunderstandings

**CENTENNIALS**

**700: Misunderstandings**

Please let me explain. Those were the only words Soubi rehearsed as he made his way to Ritsuka's house in a determined stride.

He hoped Ritsuka would allow him to explain, even if Soubi was disobeying a direct order by coming to see him.

The cold rains that had been beating down all afternoon had made way for a crisp evening, star flecked sky occasionally obscured by indecisive wisps of clouds.

Soubi was glad of it. Fitting as the clouds had been to his own overcast mood most of the day, they had been the cause of Soubi's trouble.

Firstly, it had meant Kio had smoked all of Soubi's cigarettes, instead of going out and buying new ones when he ran out.

And secondly – and this, Soubi thought, was far worse – it had meant Ritsuka spent fifteen minutes waiting alone outside the school gates, the rain mocking his lack of umbrella by intensifying the fall of water.

Ritsuka's voice had only cracked once as he demanded to know where Soubi had been, it was settling into maturity now Ritsuka was nearing sixteen.

'I stopped to buy cigarettes,' Soubi explained truthfully, opening his hand to show the packet of Lucky Stars he was still clutching, having all but sprinted from the convenience store.

Ritsuka roughly snatched the carton from his hand, crushing it as much as its full content would allow.

'I'm catching my death out here because of your disgusting habit!'

Two girls, slightly older, Soubi guessed, one had already lost her ears, looked questioningly at Ritsuka as they passed. Ritsuka looked away, embarrassed.

Ritsuka took a sharp breath through his nose, steadying himself and hissed: ' You promised to pick me up on time!'

Soubi's stomach contracted into a heavy clump of guilt and he stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his coat to waylay the desire to reach out to Ritsuka for reassurance.

'I'll quit smoking,' Soubi didn't think about the promise, simply meant it with his entire being.

Ritsuka answer felt like a physical blow.

'Is that another promise?' He huffed sarcastically, face twisting into an uncharacteristic sneer Soubi had never seen before.

'I'm sorry, Ritsuka,' Soubi said while looking straight at Ritsuka, willing him to believe his words, to feel their depth.

Ritsuka turned suddenly scarlet and seemed to deflate a bit, but a scowl remained set in the tightness of his lips.

'I'm walking home alone. Don't come see me today. That's an order.'

Soubi doubted Ritsuka heard his whispered 'Understood.'

But please let me explain, Soubi thought again. He was now coming up on Ritsuka's house.

He would try to make Ritsuka understand how he'd been relying on cigarettes for nearly twelve years now, weak as he was.

Soubi doubted he could adequately explain how disconcerting the thought was to never again go through the motions of lighting a cigarette. Sliding it out of the carton with a whisper promising indulgence, before tapping the filter on box, once, and smoothing the paper from filter to tip, once. A victorious crackle as the small flame of the lighter pulls together to ignite the tip.

Soubi needed to explain all this to Ritsuka.

Please, let me explain, he repeated one final time as he began to make his way up to Ritsuka's balcony. If Soubi really was to quit smoking, it would be hard, he thought. Unless Ritsuka helped him. Unless Ritsuka, his Sacrifice, ordered him to - -

Reaching the balcony, he was surprised to find Ritsuka already on it, staring right at him, wide-eyed and frozen, hands behind his back.

Soubi swung his legs over the railing and Ritsuka jerked back, colour visibly rising, even in the nightly shades cast by the light in his bedroom.

'Ritsuka, please,' Soubi stopped himself as Ritsuka gave a small jolt.

Ritsuka gave a desperate shake of his head, pressing his jaws and lips tightly together and making a strangled noise from the back of his throat. Another twitch and his cheeks bulged.

Soubi stepped forward, concerned. 'Rit-'

A loud cough from Ritsuka interrupted him and a thin puff of smoke shot from Ritsuka, almost as fast as his jumbled words.

'Let me explain!'

**A/N: Please point out any errors, I seem to be overlooking a lot of my own mistakes lately. All comments are very much appreciated - - I'm looking at you, Promocat :)**


	8. Progress

**CENTENNIALS**

**200: Progress**

Soubi pressed his fingers to the swelling, a sharp pain thumping through his cheekbone in unison with his heartbeat.

He blinked slowly and his reflection blinked with him, again sending pain from the bruise covering the left part of his cheekbone, the blue suffused with green and yellow fanning onto his eyelid.

Ritsuka, even in his hysterical fury, blood dripping from the porcelain shards still embedded in his forearm, had seemed shocked by his own actions.

He had been horrified by Soubi's proposition as his mother attempted to break the door down and had swung his hand on instinct as Soubi advanced on the door. Ritsuka had always expressed his abhorrence at Soubi speaking of murder.

Soubi couldn't stop touching his black eye, trying not to think how the pain wasn't enough, subsiding the moment he lowered his hand. It wasn't his place to want.

Seimei had left marks in places as conspicuous as his face in the beginning, too. Ritsuka would learn.

He would learn to make Soubi bend to his every will like a true Sacrifice.

And Soubi would look away from his master's bright eyes, rent by guilt. He would pretend.

Ritsuka would learn that too.


	9. New Message

**CENTENNIALS**

**100: New Message**

FROM: Soubi  
I missed you today, Ritsuka. May I come and see you tonight? Kiss, Soubi

FROM: Ritsuka  
No. I have homework. And I told you not to end your texts that way! - Ritsuka

FROM: Soubi  
Forgive me, Ritsuka. Shall I pick you up from school tomorrow? Hug, Soubi

FROM: Ritsuka  
I'm going to Yuiko's place after school. Don't end with hug, either! - Ritsuka

FROM: Soubi  
As you wish. Would you like me to ask Yuiko if I can come too? Love, Soubi

FROM: Ritsuka  
No. - Ritsuka

FROM: Soubi  
All right. Good night, Ritsuka. Sweet dreams. - Soubi

FROM: Ritsuka  
Chu.

**A/N: Once again a rather quick update, I know, but they might become woefully scarce until summer, as I have to focus school work.  
**


	10. O is for

**CENTENNIALS**

**500: 'O' is for...**

Ritsuka lingers on the doorstep, the curt flick of his tail betraying his uncertainty.

'Are you sure you don't have other things to do?' he asks, avoiding Soubi's eyes by plucking at the hem of the persimmon wind-coat he's still wearing.

'Ritsuka is more important,' Soubi's voice is soft, confident, but the look Ritsuka levels him is so sharp that Soubi smiles and looks away.

'That's not a no,' Ritsuka remarks with a tilt of his feline ears.

Soubi returns his gaze, still smiling. 'No.'

Ritsuka's ears completely disappear in his black hair, and he shrinks further into his downy jacket, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets and ducking his head until his face is obscured up to his nose. 'If you have other plans, then tell me so!'

The high collar of his coat muffles Ritsuka's words ever so slightly, the orange colour emphasizing the rising red in his face as he gives Soubi an accusatory stare. Soubi doesn't look away this time.

'Is that an order, Ritsuka?'

Ritsuka's hands fly out of the depths of his pockets as he throws them up, his voice rising. 'No! It's common sense!'

Soubi waits for Ritsuka to say something more, but speaks as Ritsuka only cycles a heavy breath through his nose. 'Ritsuka is angry. If you wish, you can-'

'No punishment!' A particular note of vehemence sneaks into Ritsuka words, 'How many times do I have to say that?'

Soubi's face reveals nothing as he inclines his head. 'As Ritsuka wishes,' his voice, too, remains sanguine, 'Forgive me.'

With a huff of irritation, Ritsuka discards his coat and stomps over to the bed with his school bag in hand. He sits down, back turned resolutely to Soubi, and pulls out a stack of books to start on his homework.

Soubi, unperturbed by Ritsuka's exasperated silence, settles onto the floor nearest the window with a packet of cigarettes. He smokes, contenting himself by listening to Ritsuka scribbling in his notebook and flipping through pages- a little more forceful than is absolutely necessary.

Soubi doesn't notice the lapse into complete silence until he lights his next cigarette, the click of his electric lighter sounding objectionably loud.

Looking up, he finds that Ritsuka has turned around, sitting cross-legged with a thick volume of some sort lying open in his lap, staring at Soubi, seemingly lost in thought. Soubi can't resist speaking.

'Is Ritsuka thinking about me?'

The gentle lilt of his voice pulls Ritsuka from his reveries with a small start. He looks slightly embarrassed, but surprises Soubi by pushing out his chin and answering, with only the smallest stammer; 'I- Yeah, sort of.'

Quirking an eyebrow, Soubi rises and approaches the bed with whispering footsteps.

'What could you be reading to make you think of me?' Soubi reaches for the thick book, lifting it off Ritsuka's thigh to glance the cover. He blinks. 'The dictionary?'

Ritsuka looks up at him with shrewdly shimmering eyes.

'Soubi, do you know what _obstinate _means?'

**A/N: Yes, random, but I wanted to get myself writing again (after struggling with the last part of _Sensory_ for so long). **

**Comments and criticisms are very welcome.  
**


	11. Inner Workings

**CENTENNIALS  
100: Inner Workings**

'Soubi?'

'Yes, Ritsuka?'

'What were you doing last night?'

_Thinking about you. I missed you. I can't sleep if I haven't heard your voice._

'I went out with Kio and other students after class. We had fun.'

'That's nice.'

_I'm sorry, Ritsuka. You don't want me to lie to you, but you seem so pleased when I tell about the life you want me to have. I wanted to call you. Did you think about me?_

'Did you have a reason for calling, Ritsuka?'

'No. Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you.'

'That's quite all right.'

_Please keep me. Please._

_**A/N: All critiques and comments are appreciated.**  
_


	12. Vice Versa

**CENTENNIALS**

**100: Vice Versa**

'Soubi?'

'Yes, Ritsuka?'

'What were you doing last night?'

_I don't really want to ask. It's not like you had promised to come._

'I went out with Kio and other students after class. We had fun.'

'That's nice.'

_I should be glad, not jealous, that you're finally starting to live for yourself. I always try to be. But- I waited. I thought you might call. I'd hoped you'd call. _

'Did you have a reason for calling, Ritsuka?'

'No. Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you.'

'That's quite all right.'

_I just wanted to hear your voice. It helps me sleep._

**A/N: You surely know the gist by now; please help me improve. **_  
_


	13. Hazardous

**CENTENNIALS**

**400: Hazardous**

Kio was a dangerous man, though Soubi would readily agree he didn't look it.

Flamboyant, yes. With the few dozen gleaming rings that adorned the shells of his ears beneath his bleach blonde hair.

Boisterous, certainly. Many a lollipop slipping from betwixt his teeth as he, far too loudly, exclaimed his enthusiasm.

Known for his happy-go-lucky disposition- which, in terms of school work, meant procrastination until the night preceding the due date- Kio was the epitome of the quirky painter. A whirl of exuberance and associations, blundering through life with the heedless luck only bestowed on true artists.

None were aware of the sharp vigilance Soubi had learned to keep around this long time nuisance and friend. Not even Kio himself.

The first traces of dusk creeping through the windows of Soubi's room, found him washing out his brushes under the tap.

Even with his back turned, Soubi remained acutely aware of Kio's presence, who was stuffing his painting supplies into his school bag. The inside of the bag was streaked with colour, proof that Kio did not often adhere to such mundane concepts as cleaning.

'It may dry enough overnight,' Kio babbled happily as Soubi dabbed the wet brush hairs with a paper towel, 'I'll come again tomorrow.'

Kio had quietly moved up behind Soubi, who, in turn, moved away from the wash-table to put away his utensils, pretending not to notice Kio following two steps before halting.

'You kept slapping on paint, you know it won't be dry,' Soubi replied calmly, drying his hands on a cloth and turning to Kio, in time to catch his gaze snapping back to the canvas propped against the wall.

'I'll come anyway!' Kio beamed, undeterred as ever as he slipped on his coat, closely watched by Soubi.

Soubi opted to say nothing, instead going to the front door. He gave Kio a wide berth with the pretext of first draping the damp cloth he still held over the back of a chair to dry. Then, making sure to keep Kio in his peripheral vision, Soubi reached for the door handle. He spotted movement, Kio drawing nearer, preparing. He was prepared, too.

Just as Soubi opened the door; Kio struck, lunging forward.

Soubi, with all the alacrity befitting the perfect fighter unit, smoothly sidestepped Kio's attempt to glomp him.

'I'll see you tomorrow, then.'

And promptly shut the door in his face.

**A/N: Thank you for reading, all comments welcome!**


	14. Antipodal

**CENTENNIALS**

**100: Antipodal**

'What shall we do tomorrow?'

'Whatever you want.'

'Why do you say that?'

'Because we are Fighter and Sacrifice. Why else?'

'You don't mean those words.'

'If you say so.'

'Please don't say that.'

'Does it make you angry when I do?'

'I would-'

'You can punish me if I have displeased you.'

'Never. Please, why-'

'But it's not violence, it's discipline. To teach me.'

'You know I would do no such thing.'

'Then how will I learn?'

'It's almost curfew, maybe we should get going.'

'As you wish.'

'Ritsuka, please stop teasing me.'

'Is that an order?'

**A/N: Written for Ishkhanuhi on LJ.  
**


	15. Exchange

**CENTENNIALS**

**100: Exchange**

'Soubi,'

'Yes, Seimei?'

'Why do you paint butterflies?'

'Because they are what I paint best.'

'Is that the only reason?'

'Yes, Seimei. Why do you ask?'

'Because I think butterflies are very fitting.'

'Fitting? I'm not sure I understand.'

'With its different life cycles, the butterfly symbolically stands for change, rebirth, doesn't it?'

'Yes, Seimei.'

'Are you looking for change, Soubi?'

'No, Seimei.'

'Then you are opposed to it?'

'Only if Seimei is.'

'I'm not. Change is necessary. Don't you think?'

'Yes, Seimei.'

'Say, Soubi, if ever I were to die, you will belong to Ritsuka. Understand?'

'...Yes, Seimei. Undersood.'

**A/N: all comments welcome.**


	16. Remarkable

**Note: **This can be considered AU-ish.

**CENTENNIALS**

**500: Remarkable  
**

He hadn't noticed it at once upon waking, though, now, he wonders how he could ever have overlooked the jet-black writing contrasted against his skin in such a prominently visible place.

The mug filled with tea shattered on top of his foot when he saw it, the scalding water searing him where his drenched socks and trousers eagerly latched onto his skin. Soubi didn't notice.

It wasn't possible! He couldn't – he couldn't be - ! Soubi was blank – was supposed to be blank! But this mark - !

Numbly, stupidly, Soubi went to the bathroom and scrubbed at the letters with water and soap, half expecting them to vanish, adding more burns when he only turned on the hot water. The black shapes remained stark and undiminished on Soubi's reddened skin.

This was not planned. This was not _ordered!_ Soubi could never have imagined - He'd thought that he and Ritsuka – Ritsuka...

_Oh Ritsuka!_

Soubi welcomed the raging snowstorm when he stepped outside to pick Ritsuka up from school, the freezing cold gave him an excuse to don thick gloves and the chaotic flurries would hopefully mask the uncontrollable quaking of his limbs.

It didn't occur to Soubi to address Ritsuka as he followed two steps behind the teen's right shoulder, every ounce of his willpower trained on setting one foot before the other, the world unsteady beneath him, his equilibrium shattered.

Panic heated through Soubi when they halted at Ritsuka's door and he offered for Soubi to come inside for warmth. For a moment, Soubi feared his shaking knees would give out as he battled down the urge to claw away the constricting coils of his scarf. It wasn't what was _on _his throat that was suffocating him.

'I'm sorry, Ritsuka, I really can't stay today,' the words coming from Soubi's mouth felt foreign and he distantly wondered if his voice sounded as unfamiliar to Ritsuka as it did to Soubi's own ears.

Soubi had never been as terrified for someone to touch him as he was when he turned away from Ritsuka. It wasn't violence he feared, but he knew with a profound clarity that a single one of Ritsuka's tentatively gentle touches would utterly destroy him.

He broke into a run the moment he knew he was out of view. Patches of fresh snow slipped away under Soubi's feet to reveal slabs of hidden ice and he slipped, crashing to the ground.

Scrambling up, he ignored the worried inquiries from a passerby, half shouted to top the gales of white, and kept running.

He tore at his coat, discarding it without thought, the scrabbling of his still-gloved hands snagging buttons on his underlying shirt, ripping it. The cold would bite reality back into his body, rouse him from this chimera, surely. Surely-!

That night, for the first time in a decade, Soubi wept, wondering how he was going to hide the clinically elegant lettering of 'BELOVED' curving on the side of his left index finger.

**A/N: Thank you for reading**


	17. Hysterics

**CENTENNIALS**

**100: Hysterics**

It would have been funny on any other person. 

It would have been amusing to see the look of all-encompassing surprise as the lid shot off with a sudden pop. On any other person. 

And it would've been highly entertaining to watch the tin spring from shocked fingers as colourful paper snakes leapt through the air. On any other person. 

Soubi hadn't cared when Kio left it, because it would have been funny. On any other person. 

His eye twitched minutely. 

'Why?' Seimei's voice promised torture beyond the cusp of endurance. 

Seimei wasn't like other people. Soubi swallowed. 

'April fools.'

**A/N: **Thank you for reading!

**Edit 04/23: small alterations made.**


	18. New Tradition

**Note:** Sister piece of the last chapter, _'Hysterics.'_

**CENTENNIALS**

**100: New Tradition**

Soubi should have known when Ritsuka did nothing as Soubi reached for his cigarettes. No scrunching his nose, no demonstrative coughs, instead hiding his face behind the book he was reading.

Soubi was savouring the first drag of smoke when the tip of his cigarette exploded with a _crack _and a small flurry of sparks.

Ritsuka rolled with laughter, 'April fools!'

Dipping his head, Soubi smilingly conceded defeat while he turned his arm to hide the perfectly round burn. Apparently, both Aoyagi brothers tended to leave scars on this particular holiday.

Soubi always had been one to embrace new traditions.

**A/N: **All comments are welcome.


	19. His Flame

**CENTENNIALS**

**1000: His Flame  
**

Soubi's kitchen area couldn't comfortably accommodate three people, really.

'Youji! We're supposed to be cooking it!'

'But it already tastes good! We might as well eat it now!'

The hiss of the wok subsided for a moment as Natsuo stopped stirring and reached into the pan. Soubi frowned, but kept his attention otherwise on the chopping block before him.

'It _is_ good!'

'Ah, Natsuo, you burned yourself!'

Looking up at this, Soubi saw Youji leaning over Natsuo's shoulder, twisting Natsuo's arm unnaturally far so he could could see the thin blister bulging from his wrist, taut and glistening.

'Don't touch it,' Soubi warned as Youji made to poke at the pocket of fluid, 'run cold water over it.'

Two voices instantly struck up in protest.

'That's stupid!'

'It's tiny!'

'So much hassle!'

'Why bother?'

And in unison: 'It doesn't hurt!'

Soubi abandoned the knife and the vegetables, taking Natuo by the elbow to steer him towards the sink. Youji tsked, wandering away from the stove, without Natsuo to hover over, and sat down at the table, kicking his feet and looking bored.

'Keep it there,' Soubi told Natsuo firmly before hurrying back to the fire.

'Why do I have to stand here?' Natsuo whined, 'I don't feel it!'

'That's your handicap,' Soubi said sanguinely as he rummaged through the spices.

Youji gave a high laugh, 'Handicap? Of course a masochist would say that!'

Sighing, 'I'm not a-'

'Yes, you are,' Natsuo blithely interrupted, his upper body slumped over the counter, head propped on his elbow as he moved his other arm up and down, up and down under the stream of water, 'Soubi didn't seem to be enjoying himself during our battle, though.'

Soubi accompanied his slight smile with a hum as he tipped the last of the ingredients into the pan. 'And yet I won.'

Sticking his chin in the air, Youji sneered, 'Yeah, yeah. A stupid trick.'

Soubi paused for moment, pensive, 'Stupid? I suppose so,' he smiled at Youji over his shoulder, 'Is that why you did nothing to counter? Because it was too stupid? Or do you think it's against the rules to use, as you say it, tricks?'

Youji rolled his eyes, but turned his head away without reply.

'At least we know one person that isn't a pervert,' Natsuo drawled, 'Ritsuka seemed pretty grossed out at the thought of blood.'

The piece of mushroom that went flying as Soubi clenched his hand around the spoon, thankfully, went unnoticed. 'I'm not a-'

'Yes, you are,' Youji's smile managed to be simultaneously beaming and malicious.

'Ritsuka must really not like pain, though, if he didn't even show up for the battle,' Natsuo's one eye found Soubi, 'or is he trying to avoid a pervert?'

No food went flying this time, but-

'Careless Soubi! Now you've burned yourself!'

'Ah! What a scary face, Soubi!'

Soubi glanced at the angry red mark that was swiftly becoming visible along the length of his finger, before focussing his attention back on finishing the meal, barely registering the immediate throbbing, 'It's fine.'

They flared up at once:

'That's stupid!'

'Then why are you complaining?'

'You're a hypocrite!'

'Then why did you make me do it?'

Turning off the gas, Soubi swivelled around, raising his hands to clearly show the blister that now hampered the use his index finger.

'What's a burn on the skin,' he smiled cryptically, swiping the burn once with the tip of his tongue, 'to someone who is used to being burned on the inside?'

With a shake of his head that whipped his long hair side to side, Youji threw up his hands, 'Soubi is so weird!'

'Look, look! He's clearly thinking perverted thoughts, I can tell!'

'You two, I'm not a-'

'Yes, you are!' They chimed in unison.

Later that night, Ritsuka didn't seem particularly attentive of Soubi's hands, even when Soubi went as far as entwining their fingers. So, when Ritsuka readjusted his hold, Soubi decided to press the issue.

'Ouch...'

'Soubi? What's wrong?' Ritsuka immediately turned searching eyes on Soubi, the tightening of his lips betraying his thoughts just before he spoke, 'Have you been fighting alone again?'

Shaking his head with a smile and small sound of denial, Soubi raised his hand for Ritsuka's frowning inspection.

'I burned my hand while I was cooking,' he explained, the warmth of both of Ritsuka's hands on his tingling its way up Soubi's arm, leaving goose flesh in its wake.

'It's nothing,' he made sure to add, unable to stop himself from running a caress over a warm cat ear, 'Don't mind me, Ritsuka.'

Ritsuka's frown deepened and, after a moment of visible hesitation, raised Soubi's hand to his lips and pressed a shy kiss to the burn mark. The contrast of velveteen lips grazing the sensitive skin, stirring awake an angry sting with their feathery touch, made the hairs in the back of Soubi's neck stand on end.

'Thank you,' Soubi breathed, realising it was a breath he had been holding. He leaned closer, until they were touching foreheads, vaguely wondering how the world could ever be cold enough when he was around Ritsuka to warrant him wearing a sweater.

'You should be careful around fire,' Ritsuka mumbled, keeping his eyes on his hands still tentatively holding Soubi's larger one.

Soubi smiled and didn't reply, instead closing the distance between their mouths, sighing into the soft kiss as Ritsuka tilted up his head to receive it. He pulled his hand from Ritsuka's grip with a tinge of regret, not wanting Ritsuka to notice his palms were already damp with sweat, the thin lairs of his clothing already too restricting for his flushed skin to bear.

Soubi could never promise to be careful around fire, because the feeling of Ritsuka's lips, timidly pushing back against his, seared Soubi more than any flame.

Burn me, Ritsuka, he thought as his gently questing tongue was permitted entrance, Soubi's squirming insides submerging in liquid heat. Reduce me to ashes.

**A/N: **Thank you for reading, as always: feel free to comment.


	20. Revelation

**CENTENNIALS**

**500: Revelation**

Though he never told Soubi; Kio had seen Seimei, once.

It had been before Soubi had shown him the single photograph he possessed of Seimei. A generic, school head-shot, the blear of cheap lighting on pale skin not diminishing the carelessly easy smile that only the handsomely charismatic can produce.

Soubi had only showed the picture once and had been spectacularly drunk as he did- the one and only time Kio convinced Soubi to partake in a bottle of vodka. Kio had silently wondered if it was Soubi's irony as an artist to store the photo between the pages of a bible for safe keeping as Soubi held it up for him to see, gripped by the very corners to keep the glossy print of a dark-haired youth free of blemishes.

Afterwards, Kio would reflect it had not been the the photographer's poor lighting skills that had left Seimei's shadowed eyes so bereft of kindness.

It had happened not long after Kio had stopped trying to beg Soubi to confide in him whenever he found one of Soubi's shirts balled up in the waste bin, the wad of crumpled fabric stiff with caked blood. Soubi's stoic assertions that it had nothing to do with Kio, invariably followed by days of impersonal aloofness, were enough to weather even Kio's otherwise undeterrable spirit.

Two paintbrushes clenched between his teeth had kept Kio from calling out any greeting as he opened the door, trying to carefully maneuver a large canvas with one hand, a box of paint held in the other. The brushes had almost clattered to the floor as Kio froze at the sight greeting him.

It wasn't because of the slim fingers encompassing Soubi's throat, pressing him back against the wall.

It wasn't how one of Soubi's hands fluttered to the other's waist, as though returning an intimate embrace, rather than a choking hold.

It wasn't even the trickle of blood that Soubi's tongue swiped away from the corner of his mouth before it could start a trail down his chin to dirty the hand keeping him in place as the stranger brought his face close, throaty voice smooth and staining as he spoke, silk drenched in poison.

'You are _mine._'

No, what made Kio freeze was that, pinned against the wall by his throat, colour visibly rising from the pressure applied by those deceptively shapely fingers, Soubi smiled.

Not the practiced shaping of his mouth into something closely resembling a human smile. Nor the rare deepening of the lines around his mouth when Soubi was genuinely amused.

Restrained, but open, Soubi regarded the figure before him with single-minded focus, face alight with beatific adoration. His naturally gentle was voice lowered in a way Kio had never heard before, thrumming with subdued energy, carrying complete conviction in its reverently hushed tone.

'Yes, Seimei. I belong only to you.'

Soubi had told Kio again and again that he didn't understand, but, soundlessly closing the door, Kio figured he understood perfectly.

**A/N: Thank you for reading!**


	21. Celebrations

**CENTENNIALS**

**400: Celebrations**

The lollipop shattered as Kio violently ground his teeth.

'Sou-chan!' He shouted, the now-empty stick flying from his lips amidst a spray of confectionery pieces. 'You're so heartless!'

Soubi looked up with mild surprise from where he stood drying his brushes. 'Hmm, me? I don't know what you're talking about.'

Kio stomped his foot in reply, crushing bits of lollipop and making the sole of his shoe stick to the floor with every step as he moved to poke Soubi in the chest.

'You're going to see that brat!' His hurt feelings shone through in his whining voice. Would Soubi really treat this like any other day? _Again?_

'Kio,' Soubi said with well hearsed firmness, brushing past him, 'don't call Ritsuka a brat. And, yes, I promised him yesterday that we could spend time together.'

'But- but-!' Kio's lip wobbled, but he tried to focus on his frustration, instead of the all-too-familiar stab of disappointment. He shouldn't have expected anything this year. Just like he shouldn't have expected anything last year. Or the year before that. But Soubi had changed so much in such a short time, without that Seimei to follow around like a whipped dog – literally – and Kio had thought that, _maybe_...

'Soubi! How could you make plans? I marked your calendar!' He _had._ 'Do you know what today is?'

Soubi pulled on his plumb coloured coat, the ash-blonde locks cascading down his shoulders entwining with the fur trimmings.

'I have no idea,' he replied levelly, plucking a bag with a supermarket logo off the floor and unceremoniously shoving it into Kio's arms. 'Hold this, will you?'

Kio automatically brought up his arms to clutch the hard shape that bumped against his sternum, despite spluttering protests.

'Don't tell me you don't know!' He shrieked at the back of Soubi's head.

'Soubi!' The front door opened. 'Today's my-!' Slam. 'birthday...'

Blinking away the sting behind his eyes, Kio realized he was still dumbly clutching the plastic bag. He was about to open his arms to let the – hopefully fragile - content crash to the floor when he recognised the contours of the half dozen of cylindrical shapes.

Setting down the bag, Kio pulled out a six-pack of beer, noticing a post-it note pressed to one of the cans. On it was a single, short line of text in Soubi's thin handwriting.

_His curfew is at six._


	22. Well Spoken

**CENTENNIALS**

**100: Well Spoken**

'Shoubi, pash me ge kerpenkine.'

'I though you would have learned your lesson about sucking lollipops over a canvas. After you had to start over because you couldn't stop talking and ruined it with a dash too much _strawberry._'

'Ik wash wa'erme'on.'

'What was that?'

'Pwease gib ik, my hangks are girgy.'

'Sorry. Despite my extensive language studies; I don't know what you're saying.'

'Gib. Me. Ge. Kerpenkine.'

'No clue. Sorry.'

'Huck you. Goo you ung'erskan' gak? Huck you.'

'Maybe later.'

Kio nearly swallowed his lollipop stick and all and started choking.

'Kio is eloquent enough to be a Fighter.'

**A/N: Thank you for reading. **


	23. Cruel and Unusual

**CENTENNIALS**

**600: Cruel and Unusual**

'You're late!'

It was the only greeting Soubi received when he reached the school gates in a hurried tread, not even seeing Ritsuka's face before he swivelled and angrily started walking away.

Soubi held back a smile at the fact that Ritsuka had waited half an hour to be able to tell Soubi he was mad at him for not coming to walk Ritsuka home, but promptly stalked off on his own when Soubi finally showed.

'I know, Ritsuka. I'm sorry.' He said instead, not keeping up with Ritsuka stomping down the street as easily as he usually would have, because he clutched an over-full ice cream cone in each hand.

'I was held up.' Kio was nothing if not a demand on ones time and attentions.

'Excuses!' Ritsuka snapped, not slowing nor looking back. 'Next time, don't bother coming at all!'

Ignoring the threat of losing a scoop of vanilla that had precariously started sliding, Soubi took two giant strides to step in front of Ritsuka, halting the teen. 'I'll always come for you, Ritsuka, even if you're not waiting for me.' _Because you're the only one that ever considered waiting. _

Soubi lowered himself to one knee to be on eye-level with Ritsuka, rueful that the frozen treats kept him from taking the teen's hands in his own. Instead, he offered Ritsuka scoops of chocolate and pistachio. 'I'm sorry I was late. Punish me however you think I deserve.'

As expected, Ritsuka bristled at the notion, grimacing with a roll of his eyes. He did, however, regard the extended peace offering with masked interest, cat ears perking despite himself. It had been a calculated risk to leave Ritsuka waiting a little longer while Soubi bought the ice cream in the hope of placating the vexed teen.

Ritsuka took the cone with a huff, beginning to mutter, 'No p-'

His words died away suddenly, a shrewd expression momentarily narrowing wide, bright eyes and cat ears giving a flick at whatever thought had crossed the boy's mind. 'Fine.'

Soubi's mouth went dry. _Will he-?_ But before he had time to parse the implications of that one word, the second cone was snatched from his hand. A globule of melting ice cream landed on Soubi's thumb.

'You don't get any ice cream! A-as punishment!' Ritsuka told him triumphantly, eyes shimmering with mischief.

Soubi blinked at him and then dipped his head in acknowledgement of Ritsuka's decision. It was also to waylay the desire to touch his lips to those rosy cheeks, flushed with pleasure, now that Ritsuka's hands were preoccupied.

Remembering the ice cream that stained his hand, Soubi made to lick his thumb clean.

'Stop!'

Hand instantly freezing, raised half-way to his mouth, Soubi questioningly looked up at Ritsuka.

Balancing the cones at either of his sides, Ritsuka leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around Soubi's thumb. Ritsuka's wet, hot, _perfect_ tongue decisively swivelled over Soubi's sticky skin and Soubi could feel the moist softness around him jostle as Ritsuka swallowed before he release the digit with a drag of velveteen lips.

Ritsuka was blushing furiously and his voice sounded just that bit higher, more breathless, but his face was set. 'I said; no ice cream.'

With that, he stepped around the kneeling Soubi and continued on his way, happily licking the treats that were melting all over his hands.

Soubi, hand still raised, had to draw two shivering breaths to control the tongues of flame that licked beneath his skin, originating from his damp thumb, before he managed to croak; 'Ritsuka is so cruel.'

Never had words felt more true.

**A/N: Thank you for your time.**


	24. 2 New Messages

**CENTENNIALS**

**100: 2 New Messages**

FROM: Soubi  
Ritsuka, I've been trying to call, but you won't pick up. Please call me back.

FROM: Soubi  
Ritsuka, I'm sorry for breaking my promise and not picking you up today. Please reply.

FROM: Soubi  
Ritsuka, I know you're reading my texts. Yuiko says she just talked to you. Answer your phone. Please.

FROM: Soubi  
Ritsuka, punish me. Answer the phone and order me to make it up to you.

FROM: Soubi  
Ritsuka, what can I do to have you speak to me again? Please. I love you.

FROM: Soubi  
Kio kissed me today.

FROM: Ritsuka  
I'm calling you!

**A/N: **With apologies for the long lack of updates!


	25. Ink

**CENTENNIALS**

**900: Ink**

For the fourth time that night, Ritsuka noticed a strange rustling sound as Soubi raised his cigarette to his lips.

'What's that noise?' he asked sharply over the top of his book, eyeing Soubi with a hint of suspicion.

The Fighter promptly switched hands on the cigarette between his lips. There was another rustle as he casually dropped his hand into his lap. 'Nothing,' he said lightly.

Ritsuka closed his book with a dry snap, cat ears canted back.

'Don't lie to me!' he hissed, scrambling off the bed to where Soubi sat cross-legged on the carpet.

Soubi looked up expectantly, a small smile on his lips. He obligingly extended his cigarette away from his body when Ritsuka demonstratively wafted the offensive smoke away from his scrunched up nose.

'It's nothing bad,' Soubi amended smoothly, leaning forward ever so slightly to look up at the teen glowering at him.

With a frown of disbelief, face set, Ritsuka plopped down on his knees and held out an expectant hand. The corners of Soubi's smiling mouth twitched before he obediently placed his hand in Ritsuka's, palm up.

The warmth of Soubi's hand resting in his, fully relaxed, coursed from Ritsuka's fingertips straight to his cheeks, igniting a flush on his cheekbones. In its wake, goosebumps shivered to life on his skin.

Gnawing on his lip in the hope that it would somehow quell the tremor that had settle into his hand, Ritsuka fumbled to open the button and push up Soubi's sleeve – the Fighter's thumb grazed his finger as it passed. A strip of what looked like plastic wrap was wrapped around Soubi's wrist. Beneath it, Ritsuka noticed white gauze.

'What is this? Why is this on you arm? Soubi, are you hurt?'

Soubi, hands incapacitated by his cigarette and Ritsuka's grasp, gently touched his forehead to Ritsuka's frowning one. The careful brush made Ritsuka's eyes snap up from their wary scrutiny and he was a little startled at how close the Fighter's periwinkle eyes now hovered.

'I'm not hurt, Ritsuka,' Soubi said in a low murmur. When Ritsuka looked clearly unconvinced at the assertion, poised to argue- why else was there a wound dressing?- he continued, 'I wanted to show you when I was sure my body wouldn't reject any of the ink, so you could see it just as I imagined it.'

Comprehension began dawning on Ritsuka. 'Soubi, did you...?'

'Ritsuka, I got a tattoo of your name.' For all his usual stoicism, Soubi beamed.

Ritsuka stared, horrified. First at Soubi's face, then at the wrist he was still cradling in his hands and lastly, unwillingly, at the strips of bandages covering Soubi's throat. Soubi's smile dimmed in the heavy silence that followed, his eyes remaining fixed on his Sacrifice's features.

'Why?' Ritsuka asked finally.

Why would Soubi want Ritsuka's name? Loveless. A cold shiver pushed back against the warmth spreading from Soubi's and and Ritsuka released it abruptly, at though burned.

His eyes once again fell on Soubi's throat. Though hidden, he could clearly see the jagged scars of BELOVED in his mind's eye. The marks always made Ritsuka's insides squirm, to see his brother's name carved into Soubi like he truly had been nothing more than the tool he always told Ritsuka he was.

Ritsuka never wanted to see the word Loveless on Soubi's skin. Even if Soubi did it to strengthen their bond, Ritsuka did not want them to share _that_ name. If his fate as Loveless was unavoidable, he didn't want to be constantly reminded of it. And he certainly didn't want Soubi to brand himself as such willingly. It felt like a cruel joke on Soubi. How he´d been passed around, going from Beloved to Loveless.

Soubi´s expression was unreadable, but his lips were tight as he replied softly, ´I wanted to show I belong to you.´ His fingers curled restlessly now that Ritsuka was no longer holding his hand. ´It is a constant reminder of our bond.´ Eyes falling to his covered wrist, Soubi added, ´A memory.´

With a slow shake, Ritsuka lowered his head, unruly black hair hiding his face. Bonds. Names. Fighter and Sacrifice. Orders. That´s what it all came down to. Orders. Seimei´s orders.

Distantly, Ritsuka wondered if he ever would have heard _those _three words if Seimei had never ordered Soubi to say them.

Barely above a whisper, Ritsuka spoke to his knees, ´You shouldn't have.´

There was another pregnant pause, broken by a short query from Soubi, weighed despite the airy tone. ´Why not?'

Another slow shake of his head. 'You- You shouldn't- Because you're- Or... because you're _not...'_ Ritsuka huffed, heat packing tighter and tighter in his face. _You're not Loveless, Soubi. _

Soubi's forehead creased sharply and he dropped his cigarette to the floor, its flame having silently died.

'Ritsuka,' he said, grabbing the plastic with determined fingers to tear it off, peeling away the gauze beneath it, 'please don't be angry until you've seen it. If it still displeases you, then...' He trailed off in implication. It wasn't necessary to speak the familiar words out loud as he shifted to his knees and extended his wrist with downcast eyes. _Punish me. _Swallowing, Ritsuka took Soubi's hand again.

Intimately tucked away in the crook of his wrist were not the eight letters the teen had expected. Instead, there were seven, flowing delicately across Soubi's inflamed skin.

_RITSUKA_

**A/N: **Thank you very much for reading. All comments are welcome!


	26. Nonverbal

**CENTENNIALS**

**500: Nonverbal **

_**Feet**_  
Seimei has very restless feet. So often having his eyes downcast, Soubi has become intimately familiar with the sight of Seimei's shoe-tip swaying almost imperceptibly with hidden squirming. Once, catching Soubi staring, Seimei confided that he intensely dislikes the feeling of sweat between his toes.

On rare, hot nights, if Soubi performs exceptionally well, Seimei rests his bare feet, still wriggling, on Soubi's thigh as he plays video games. Soubi is always grateful for Seimei's diverted attention as he nibbles his lower lip with a frown, trying to calculate how long he would be left recuperating if he gave in and licked those beckoning toes.

_**Ears**_  
Soubi has always suspected that Seimei has very sensitive ears. Always the first to don a woolly hat when the days turn colder and tending to strike up an umbrella at any drop of moisture that makes one of his velveteen ears flicker with distress.

'I'm sorry, Seimei, there's something on your ear.'

Soubi's pre-emptive apology is also meant as a warning before he runs his fingers over the back of one pristine cat ear, the tuft of hair at the tip quivering against his fingers.

It doesn't matter that Soubi's hand stings where Seimei slapped it away. Walking behind his master, he has a perfect view of Seimei's human ears, clearly reddening amidst black hair.

_**Tail**_  
Late at night, the hours already creeping into morning, it becomes clear what a conscious effort Seimei makes to control his tail.

It's ironic, Soubi muses, that this one part of his body becomes more active when Seimei's gestures are languid with want of sleep, eyelids set low and heavy. The jerks and bounces of the furry appendage telegraph Seimei's thoughts more loudly than Seimei realises, Soubi figures, or else he would have surely ceased the coiling movements that make the gleaming fur wink and smile and frown.

'Of course, Seimei, I would do anything for you. Your word is my law.'

Soubi's not sure his answer really corresponds with the question, but the risk is infinitely worth it as he watches the pleased curls of Seimei's tail against his calf.

_**Lips**_  
Soubi has spent much time subversively studying Seimei's smiles – his master's greatest weapon, in his opinion.

There is what Soubi secretly dubs the Public Smile: the expertly dazzling curve of his mouth, flashing just a hint of straight teeth, perfectly tailored to defer attention from the calculating sheen of his eyes.

There is the Indulgent Smile: the barely-smile when Seimei is pleased with Soubi, tightening his lips in a display of an owner's superior endearment for a pet's efforts.

And, always bringing shivers with the thought, there is the Hollow Smile: deprived of emotion as any kindness, Seimei's very humanity, slips away into the void suddenly stretching behind those endlessly dark eyes.

Face pressed to Seimei's bedroom window, unseen by anyone, Soubi watches the two identical sets of black cat ears of the room's occupants, numbly noting he's never seen _that_ smile before.

**A/N: **With huge thanks to my reviewers!


	27. First Aid

**CENTENNIALS**

**800: First Aid**

'Whoa-! Soubi! You're bleeding!'

Before Soubi knew what was happening, a hand grasped his shoulder and the back of his shirt was tugged up, knuckles grazing a tender bruise on the small of his back. A gasp. Then silence.

With a furrowing of his brow, Soubi leaned away, rearranging his shirt. 'Kio, you can't just start undressing people. It's rude,' he chided.

'Und-? Soubi!' The hand on Soubi's shoulder returned, yanking him around to face the wide-eyed youth that seemed to have taken such a liking to him these days. 'What happened?' Kio demanded shrilly.

Soubi gave a small shrug, again straightening his shirt over the bandages he'd haphazardly applied the night before. 'Do you have any cigarettes? I ran out.'

Kio's mouth fell open so far that Soubi could count three fillings – consequence of the other's incorrigible sweet tooth – before Kio sputtered into speech. 'You're just going to act like there's nothing wrong?'

'Didn't I just tell you what's wrong?' Soubi drawled, turning his scrutinizing gaze back on his painting, scanning for any imperfections from being carelessly jostled by Kio, 'I'm out of cigarettes.'

The tip of Soubi's brush was barely a hair's breadth from the canvas when it was roughly snatched from him, staining his palm with a slick swipe of paint. Soubi allowed himself a small sigh, resigning to the fact the he would not be continuing his work just now.

'Is there something you want?' Soubi inquired blithely, finally turning fully to Kio, sitting just behind him on the floor.

Kio's eyes were still wide and Soubi frowned again, this time in mild confusion, when he realised Kio's eyes behind his round glasses were shimmering with unshed tears as he whined, 'I want you to tell me what happened to you!'

'It's got nothing to do with you,' Soubi dead-panned, his own voice remaining unchanged and level.

Kio flared up instantly, bunching his hands in the front of Soubi's shirt. 'How can you say that? I'm your friend, Soubi! You can't expect me to ignore that you're clearly hurt!'

Taking hold of the bony wrists, Soubi decisively disentangled Kio's tremulous hands.

'Kio, I'm fine. Don't worry yourself,' Kio's mouth flew open in clear desire to protest, but Soubi swiftly continued, 'Nothing is happening against my will.'

Kio's mouth flapped soundlessly before his voice caught up, soft at first; 'Wait, are you telling me that- someone – did... that-?'

Shock and horror chased each other across Kio's features before his voice rose to a shriek. 'Not against your will? You can't tell me you want this!'

He sat up on his knees, gesticulating wildly, a strangely pleading note pervading in his still-shouting voice. 'Soubi! You should call the police! Whatever sick, twisted bastard is doing this-'

'Kio,' Soubi didn't raise his voice, but the steely finality in that one word brought Kio to an abrupt halt, taken aback, 'don't talk about Seimei that way.'

There was a moment of silence as Kio parsed Soubi's words, mutely mouthing the word 'Seimei' with a deep frown, his eyes flitting over Soubi's face. 'Seimei...? You mean your... boyfriend?'

For the first time, there was a hint of strain in Soubi's voice, though his reply was immediate. 'Seimei is not my boyfriend.' He fought the urge to sigh again, trying to gauge from Kio's expression how much it would take for the other to drop the subject. Kio's lips quivering over his set jaw told him enough.

'Seimei is my master,' Soubi said matter-of-factly, ignoring the look of surprise evident on Kio's face turning to incredulity. 'I follow his orders. When he is displeased, he punishes me.'

And Seimei certainly had been displeased. Soubi had been lacks in his defence. The Fighter wholeheartedly agreed that he had deserved the dozen of bruises and torn welts crudely delivered with Seimei's belt for his carelessness. His guilt was only assuaged by the thought that the cut on Seimei's cheek wasn't deep and that he had been allowed to redeem himself through pain.

Levelling Kio a stern look, Soubi spoke clear and deliberate, 'It's none of your business, Kio.'

'You can't really expect me to ignore this!' The crack in Kio's voice, rising in pitch, made him sound hysterical.

'Then leave,' Soubi's voice was flat, 'I have spare bandages in my bag. I'll change them.'

Kio's knuckles popped audibly as he balled his fists while rising, storming to the door. There was a loud thud as Kio kicked Soubi's bag, which stood beside it, across the room towards the blond. Soubi waited for the door to open and slam shut, but instead, Kio came back, now positively stomping his feet as he rolled up his sleeves with furious jerks.

'Take off your shirt,' he ordered brusquely, 'I have to clean it first.'

**A/N: **Thank you for reading and all my thanks to my reviewers. You're a great source of motivation!


	28. 3 New Messages

**CENTENNIALS**

**100: 3 New Messages**

FROM: Kio  
Sou-chan! Drop by after class! You can bring the beer. I want sex.

FROM: Soubi  
That's none of my concern, Kio. I told you not to text me things like that.

FROM: Kio  
Don't be like that! It was a typo. I meant six.

FROM: Soubi  
I have to finish up this project and I promised Ritsuka I would see him today. Perhaps later.

FROM: Kio  
Come on, Soubi! Don't waste all your time with that kid. Let's enjoy my sex-pack! You and me!

FROM: Soubi  
I think you mean six-pack.

FROM: Kio  
I know what I meant.

**A/N: **Once again all my thanks to anyone who reviewed, it's a giant motivator!


	29. Speech Impediment

**CENTENNIALS**

**600: Speech Impediment**

Soubi's words always seem to affect Ritsuka so. His colour rising at the most innocuous queries, gaze skittering away as he shutters inward in search for a reply. He always appears caught off guard as he stutters into speech, overcome by Soubi's exclamations.

But Ritsuka's tongue-tied blushing around his Fighters does not stem from the fact that Soubi's professions are unexpected. On the contrary. Ritsuka's problem is knowing exactly what Soubi is going to say.

'I'm sorry.' Soubi's voice is soft, but he's still smiling.

So what?

It's what Ritsuka thinks every time. Every time those two words tumble from Soubi's lips with practised ease. Every time Soubi uses it as a deadpan response to his questions. Every time Soubi offers them in reply to Ritsuka's angry accusations.

'So what?' He always opens his mouth to say it. 'So what if you've sorry? That doesn't change what you did. You always say you're sorry, but you keep up the things you apologize for!'

However, before Ritsuka speaks the words, he can already hear Soubi's answer in his mind. 'Then teach me. Discipline me for what displeases you. Make me learn.'

'How many times have I told you?' Ritsuka's reply immediately tumbles through his thoughts. 'No punishment! You claim you'll do anything for me, but you lie to me, toy with me, and never take responsibility for it with the excuse that I can hurt you if I'm angry. I don't want to be like that! I don't want to hurt you!'

It's not hard for Ritsuka to imagine the pause in which Soubi would give him a mildly confused look before his lips curve into a restrained smile. 'Whatever Ritsuka wants.'

'No, it's not about what I want. It's always about what you want, Soubi. If you really bothered to listen to me, you would know that I want you to call me before a battle! I want you to be honest with me! But you ignore that because I don't order you to do these things in the way _you_ want me to!'

The imaginary Soubi frowns, pale blue eyes carefully scrutinizing Ritsuka's face as he murmurs, 'Then what does Ritsuka want?'

That's the question, even if only posed in his head, that makes Ritsuka blush to his roots and fumble for words.

'I-i want you t-to be honest with me. Tell me what you're thinking a-and feeling. I want to- to see you smile, Soubi, and know that you're happy.'

It's always hard for Ritsuka to remain focused on the situation at hand as the Soubi in his mind glides closer, decisively wrapping an arm around his waist, gentle fingers on his chin drawing Ritsuka's gaze up as Soubi leans close- then closer.

'I only think of you, Ritsuka. I only feel this way for you. I only smile for you, because you are what makes me happy.' Blue eyes shimmer and shapely lips smile, so close to Ritsuka's own. 'I love you.' Both in his mind and out, a shiver rattles down Ritsuka's spine, ending in the quivering tip of his tail and raising fine hairs.

So, when Soubi voice turns softer as he says, 'I'm sorry,' Ritsuka only presses his lips – already tingling – to a tight line between his scalding cheeks. His eyes fall away from his Fighter's face as strings of words coil against the back of his teeth, tangling around his tongue and causing him to stammer. Though a whole conversation takes place in his psyche, Ritsuka only manages his closing remark out loud as he ducks his reddened head.

'Y-you idiot...'


	30. Fantastic

**CENTENNIALS**

**700: Fantastic**

The apartment was silent and still as Soubi waited. Even dust particles seemed unwilling to share his company to swirl in the low light that crept across the floor towards his crossed ankles. Sighing into the silence, Soubi took solace in the knowledge that Seimei's call had come a while ago and his Sacrifice would be there to pick him up soon.

'Be waiting,' was all Seimei had said in greeting as Soubi pressed his cellphone to his ear before the first ring ended. It hadn't occurred to Soubi that Seimei couldn't see the gesture through the phone as he lowered his head with his affirmation.

The embers that always weakened whenever he was away from Seimei sparked again, Soubi's quickened breath fanning a fire of careful excitement in the chilled hollow of his chest. He could never deny his sense of eagerness at seeing his master, being allowed near him again. More new was the flicker of uncertainty and disappointment – only in himself, of course! – as he never truly seemed to please Seimei, no matter how hard he tried.

'Seimei,' Soubi murmured, releasing a controlled breath of air while he sat waiting on the floor in the day's greying light.

'Soubi.' The hand in his hair did not startle him. Instead he allowed his eyes to slip shut while long fingers combed through his even longer hair. Goose flesh spreading at the cool fingertips grazing his scalp made Soubi's skin come alive with a pleasurable prickling.

'Seimei, I will do well for you today. I will make you proud,' Soubi breathed, his eyes still closed and his chin lifting for the hand that now lightly grazed his jaw.

The hand clasped his chin, gently commanding, and Soubi couldn't stop his contented sigh at how perfectly his body fit in that grasp, melting into his rightful place.

'Good.' It was a melodious purr that made Soubi's insides flutter and jump altogether as his lips were grazed with the soft pad of a thumb. 'You will do as I say.'

'Always.' Soubi promise was firm, laced with a reverent fervency, 'I belong to you. There is nothing I can't do if it's for Seimei.'

Soubi's chin was nudged up and he pulled himself up a little higher, straightening his spine more as to better present himself for his master's purposes.

'You are mine, Soubi.' The other's breath ghosting over his lips robbed Soubi of his own, the delightful pressure in his chest leaving no room for air.

'Yes. I am yours alone. I love you.' The feverish whisper had barely left Soubi's lips before they were claimed in a fierce kiss.

The melding of velveteen lips was contrasted by a graze of teeth across Soubi's lower lip, making him squeeze his eyes shut more tightly. Blots of colour exploded behind his closed eyelids as blood pounded through Soubi's body, the sound of his wanton gasp lost in the building rush in his ears. The moment lasted all too short.

Soubi's eyes were still closed, his breathing laboured, as the voice- so close he could feel it, taste it- started to speak. 'Soubi. I lo–'

There was a sharp rap on wood and the sound of Soubi's apartment door opening. Quickly blinking open periwinkle eyes, Soubi saw his Sacrifice standing in the door opening, wrapped in a thick coat against the frigid wind playing outside. Apart from the imperious figure in the doorway, Soubi's room was empty.

'Are you ready?' There was always a note of forbidding steel hidden in Seimei's honeyed tone.

'Yes, Seimei.' Soubi rose smoothly from his place on the floor to follow after his master, who was already turning to head out.

It didn't matter that Seimei spoke no further to him. It didn't matter that Seimei didn't touch Soubi or that Soubi was even unable to catch that ardent gaze before his master's back was once again turned on him.

Soubi's lips still tingled with the power of his word spell. Because one day Soubi's spell would be flawless and he'd know the perfect words to finally be worthy of his master's affection. Until that time came, Soubi would make due with his fantastic lies.

**A/N: **Thank you very much for reading. **  
**


	31. Celebrations II

**CENTENNIALS**

**600: Celebrations II**

Seimei didn't like surprises. They were so _uncontrolled_ – forcing revisions of plans due to the frivolous spontaneity of others. No, he didn't like them one bit. Especially when orchestrated by Soubi.

'Where are we going?' The question was posed softly, it wouldn't do to make a scene in the middle of the busy high street, but the venom behind it was no less potent. Soubi, for all the threat hulking in his Sacrifice's voice, smiled.

'We're almost there, Seimei. It's just up the street.' One pale hand gestured vaguely through the throng of shopping people, fingertips reddened from the biting cold. Fists balled tightly in Seimei's coat pockets with the desire to drag Soubi back by his invitingly swaying mane as the blond kept walking.

To Seimei's surprise and hastily masked displeasure, Soubi had been waiting for him outside the school grounds, rosy-cheeked and beaming.

'I have something to show you,' was the Fighter's greeting in response to Seimei's inquisitively raised eyebrow.

Momentarily stymied by the uncharacteristically forward statement, accompanied by Soubi's giddy expression, Seimei stared. 'What?'

'There is something I wish to show you,' Soubi restated, sobering somewhat under Seimei's ardent stare.

It were the interested looks cast by passing students that made Seimei agree with a curt nod. Curiosity was what made him follow Soubi's swishing coat through the streets even when they were out of sight of the school.

Now, Seimei's curiosity grew thin. Today was a special day. One he had certainly not planned to spend with Soubi.

'Soubi.' The clipped tone made Soubi look back, a fleeting frown rippling his forehead as his pales eyes moved over Seimei's face. But he continued walking.

'You will tell me what this is about right now,' Seimei's said, trusting the hiss of icy winds to hide the malice in his low voice. 'I ord-'

'We're here.'

Seimei didn't have time to register the outside of the low building, affronted as he was by Soubi's hand closing just above his elbow to decisively guide him through the door.

'SURPRISE!'

Feline ears rising from where they'd been pressed to his hair from the sudden cacophony of voices, Seimei looked around the small room. Colourful decorations adorned the walls, and he saw a large cake on a fold-in table. Amidst the modest crowd of people he spotted faces of peers he associated with at school. He even caught sight of his mother's watery grimace of a smile from the far corner.

Before he could say anything, a black haired figure collided with his midriff. 'Happy birthday, Seimei!'

Despite his shock, Seimei's arms closed around Ritsuka's bony shoulders for a firm embrace.

'Isn't this nice, Seimei? Were you surprised? I could tell you were!' Ritsuka babbled giddily, face split in a radiant smile. 'We all got invitations for a surprise party. But the strange this is... no one's sure who organised it. Was it who you came with? Did he- Huh? Where did he go?'

Peering first around his brother, and then through the room, Ritsuka frowned. 'He left? Who was that, Seimei?'

Eagerly trading in Soubi's company for that of his Ritsuka, Seimei smiled. 'No one, Ritsuka.' Before Ritsuka's confused frown could deepen, Seimei pointed at the table. 'Ah, is that cake all for me? You'll have to help me eat it.'

Sufficiently distracted, Ritsuka grasped Seimei's hand to drag him along with gleeful enthusiasm, launching into an extensive list of the various snacks, drinks, and treats.

He had to give the Fighter credit, Seimei thought while looking at Ritsuka's broad, blushing smiles, Soubi knew just what Seimei wanted.

**A/N: Thank you very much for your time. Once again apologies are necessary for the long wait. Being head over heels in love is very distracting. ^^ **


	32. 4 New Messages

**CENTENNIALS**

**100: 4 New Messages (Or: Work In progress)  
**

FROM: Seimei  
I will be picking you up at noon tomorrow. Prepare yourself for a spell battle.

FROM: Nisei  
Understood. I'll cancel my afternoon classes. Who will we be fighting?

FROM: Seimei  
Boundless issued the challenge. They are reckless and undisciplined. We will be obliterate them for their folly. Beloved shows no mercy on weakness, Nisei.

FROM: Nisei  
Yes, I understand, Seimei. They will not be walking away from this battle.

FROM: Seimei  
Good. Do not disappoint me tomorrow, Nisei.

FROM: Nisei  
Hey, Seimei... Do you think about me when you touch yourself?

FROM: Seimei**  
**We talked about this, Nisei.

**A/N: **Thank you for your time. My first attempt ever at writing Nisei~


	33. Speaking Freely

**CENTENNIALS**

**200: Speaking Freely  
**

'What are you reading there, Ritsuka?'

'Jean-Paul Sartre.'

'Is it a nice story?'

'It's not a story, Soubi. It's philosophy.'

'Ah, I see. What is it about?'

'About choices, and freedom.'

'Freedom? What does he write about it?'

'One of his more famous quotes is: "Every man is condemned to be free."'

'Hmm. Does Ritsuka agree with that?'

'Yes, I do.'

'Why?'

'Wh-what do you mean "why"? It's- That's- the way things are.'

'Why?'

'Because... people should be free to make their own choices.'

'Why?'

'Because it is their right!'

'Why?'

'Stop saying that, Soubi!'

'So, Ritsuka thinks everyone should be free?'

'Yes!'

'Aren't they also free, then, to give up that freedom?'

'I- That's...'

'Would that not also be a choice for them?'

'B-but... That's stupid...'

'If Ritsuka says so. Do you believe people should be forced to be free?'

'N-no... That- wouldn't make sense.'

'Ah, I see. Then Ritsuka thinks people should be allowed to choose not to be free?'

'I... W-well- what do _you _think, Soubi?'

'I think a lack of freedom can be very freeing.'

'But...why?'

'Because they're right where they want to be. I would never want to be free of you, Ritsuka.'

**A/N: Thank you very much for reading. **


	34. Dutch Courage

**CENTENNIALS**

**800: Dutch Courage  
**

Kio giggled. 'You're drunk.'

'I am not drunk, Kio,' said Soubi as he got up from the couch.

However, Kio knew better than to listen to Soubi's ever-controlled words. Much more truthful was the way Soubi overbalanced, bumping his shin into the low coffee table while making his way to the kitchen.

'You f'nished the bottle,' Kio slurred, knocking his glass off the table as he sloppily raised an arm to point at Soubi's back with a limp hand. Soubi emerged again from the open kitchen area with a cold beer in each hand.

'You started the bottle,' he countered sagely, heavily sitting down on the couch. The jostling of the cushions made Kio slide closer to Soubi in the centre of the sagging furniture. Kio nestled himself more firmly to Soubi's side without hesitation, bleary smile directed at the sweating bottles of beer. The shiny glass winked back at him as his vision moved in and out of focus.

'This's nice,' he blurted out. Soubi hummed non-committally at his side, but Kio wasn't fooled.

'You know it is,' he said blithely, nudging Soubi's chest. He was distracted from the other's response by the thought of how warm and pleasantly firm Soubi's form felt to the touch.

'I know something that would be even nicer,' Kio mumbled lowly, turning his unfocused eyes on Soubi.

'What would that be?' Soubi's query was aimed at the ceiling, his head tipped back, and his eyes closed.

Alcohol made the words sound less foolish than Kio knew they actually were. 'Kiss me.'

Silence. Soubi opened his eyes. 'Kio...' The warning sounded tired.

'It's just a kiss,' Kio's jovially airy tone did not correspond with the way he felt his insides squirm at the thought. It made him feel feverish, desire itching over his clammy skin. To kiss Soubi...

'No, Kio.' Kio refused to hear the finality.

'One kiss,' Kio sincerely hoped it didn't sound like he was pleading, even as his hand descended on Soubi's forearm to discourage him from pulling away. 'Just kiss me once, Sou-chan.' Soubi began to rise. 'Kiss me like you would kiss Seimei.'

Soubi froze. Kio regretted the words at once, teeth catching his lower lip. There was no faster way to make Soubi shut down than to mention the Aoyagi kid. Warily watching Soubi's tightened face for any expression, Kio waited, opting not to speak.

Then Soubi's eyes swept to him, suddenly smouldering. 'Just like with Seimei?'

Kio nodded dumbly, drawn in by the deepening colour of his beloved friend's eyes.

'All right...' Despite his intoxication, Soubi's hand was perfectly graceful as it came up to pluck his glasses from his nose.

Shaking his long locks from his face, Soubi placed the glasses on the table and turned to Kio. Eyes roving over the other's face, Kio's mouth went dry, forcibly reminded of how beautiful Soubi was up close. An unreadable smile accompanied a cold gleam in Soubi's eyes, but his voice was silky. 'You'll have to do just as I say.'

Again Kio nodded, clearly enthused this time. Setting aside his beer, he sat up straighter, his hopeful smile beaming.

Soubi's voice dropped to a purr. 'Put your hands behind your back.' Kio didn't so much obey the words as the seductive promise that lurked in Soubi's honeyed tone.

Soubi's strange smile deepened as he shifted closer. With every inch that Soubi neared, the air around Kio felt harder to breathe. Behind his back, his tightly clamped hands turned sweaty.

One of Soubi's hands strayed up to nudge away one of the many unruly locks of bleached hair. Then the finger stroked down his cheek, thoughtful. Kio shivered all over, his pants already shamefully tightened.

'Close your eyes.' Kio nearly whimpered at the soft command, not wanting to lose the vision of Soubi drifting ever closer to him. Shutting his unwilling eyes, he forced himself not to fidget. For once in his life, he cursed the alcohol coursing through his system, blunting his senses and muddling his memory. He wanted to recall every detail of this with crystal clarity.

The smell of stale booze did not detract from the moment when Kio felt Soubi's breath ghosting over his lips. The feeling of the gentle vibrations, Soubi's voice so close to his skin, made Kio part his own lips in want, almost missing the intimately murmured words. 'Now don't move.'

Kio's insides coiled in anticipation, heat clinging to his body in sheets. The sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears drowned out all other sounds as he waited.

Waited.

_Waited. _

The door slammed shut. Eyes shooting open, startled, Kio confusedly looked around his empty apartment. Outside, the sound of Soubi's footsteps swiftly died away.

Kio hugged a pillow to his chest, sniffling loudly and blinking his stinging eyes, not understanding he'd gotten exactly what he asked for.

**A/N: Thank you for your time, and all my thanks to my reviewers. It really inspires me. **


	35. Morning After

**Note:** This is a sister piece to the previous chapter, _Dutch Courage. _**  
**

**CENTENNIALS**

**100: Morning After**

'Good morning, Kio.'

'Hmpf!'

'May I ask what that's supposed to mean?'

'I'm not talking to you!'

'Ah, I must have been fooled by the fact that you're talking to me now.'

'Tsk!'

'You are absolutely not talking to me any more?'

'Nuh-uh!'

'And you'll refuse to help me with any school projects, I take it?'

'Uh-huh!'

'I understand. I was going to request you help me with something I believe you're most suitable for, but if you're unwilling to speak to me...'

'...What?'

'We were assigned to do nude portraits, and-'

'I'll come to your place after class!'

**A/N: Thank you very much for your time!**


	36. Artistic Differences

**CENTENNIALS **

**400: Artistic Differences**

The corner of the drawing was sticking from one of the many folders that surrounded Soubi. Engrossed in his work, the blond never noticed Ritsuka pulling it out, mouth agape as he stared at it. 'W-Wow! S-Soubi! When did you...?'

Wayward strands of blond, having slipped from his messy bun, hung in front of Soubi's eyes when he looked up.

'Ritsuka?' Understanding dawned on Soubi's face when he saw what Ritsuka was holding. He sat back from where he hovered over his canvas, smiling up at his Sacrifice.

'I was hoping to show it only when I had framed it. I'm sorry.' A rueful expression momentarily passed over Soubi's face, but he was carefully emotionless when he asked, 'Do you like it?'

Ritsuka's lips moved silently, his eyes roving all over the charcoal drawing. Soubi had worked on it for several weeks, sitting up until the wee hours of the morning to painstakingly recreate every tiny detail he so adored about his Ritsuka.

'It's... beautiful, Soubi.' Soubi's smile was controlled, but entirely genuine. 'B-but...'

Searching Ritsuka's expression, Soubi encouraged, still smiling, 'But?'

Ritsuka blushed, seemingly torn between being flattered and feel exasperated. 'There's something missing...'

Wiping off his brush, Soubi turned to the teen. 'I know, Ritsuka. I couldn't portray the velvety sheen of your hair. I'm sorry' Sitting up on his knees, Soubi reached out to run reverent fingers through Ritsuka's bangs.

Ritsuka cringed away from the doting hand, colour standing high on his cheeks. 'Stop that! And stop apologizing all the time. You know that's not what I meant.'

Soubi was still smiling, his voice soft as he rose fully. 'Then, I'm sorry I was unable to capture the softness of your lips...' Leaning in, Soubi did not miss the opportunity to capture said softness with his own lips.

Although he stiffened, tail freezing ramrod straight, Ritsuka did not pull away. It was Soubi that ended the chaste but heartfelt kiss, not wanting to push his luck and anger his Sacrifice.

'D-don't just do... _that...' _Ritsuka sounded breathless. 'And that's not what I mean either!'

Soubi cocked his head, messy bun of hair flopping sideways 'I'm sorry. What do you mean?'

'Soubi!' There was a scandalized note to Ritsuka's voice.

The gleam in Soubi's eyes contradicted his innocent expression. 'Yes, Ritsuka?'

'Where are my _ears?' _Ritsuka shouted, blush surpassing scarlet.

Soubi smiled.

'Stop smiling! You can apologise now!'

**A/N: **Soubi would call the particular art style "post optimistic", I think. Thank you very much for reading!


	37. Present Absence

**CENTENNIALS**

**700: Present Absence **

Over the years, each person in Soubi's life developed their own way of expressing they missed him

Kio tended to eagerly latch onto the excuse of school work, hoping it would mask how he checked up on Soubi.

FROM: KIO  
Sou-chan! If you don't show up for classes the professor is gonna fail you! You better be home when I come by with your assignment tomorrow or I'm kicking the door down! Where are you?

If Soubi ever failed to honour a meeting with Seimei, however, there were no probing questions as to his whereabouts. The message would be far calmer. Brief, but friendly. Terrifyingly so.

FROM: Seimei  
I didn't see you at the school today. I was under the impression you'd meet me. Perhaps it will be more convenient for you if I visit you instead. Tomorrow, Soubi.

Then there were those that left a bitter taste in Soubi's mouth when he thought about being missed. With grim satisfaction, he always chose not to alleviate that supposed loneliness.

FROM: [unknown number]  
You never give your sensei a call. I'm hurt. Nagisa has been tinkering on her science project creations. I would suggest you visit me for a few lessons to assure that you are well prepared, Soubi-kun.

Soubi flipped his phone shut with a sigh, slipping off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. His head was pounding, clothes clinging to the sheen of fever sweat covering his body.

The sudden assault of a particularly vicious flu had made him sleep through most of the afternoon. When he jerked awake and saw the time, he still forced his unwilling body from his bed, out the door.

Three hours late. Soubi confirmed what he already knew when he arrived at the school to find no Ritsuka. He immediately began trudging the long trek back to his apartment, shivering uncontrollably in the moderate warmth. More and more colour washed out of his face with every wave of nausea that accompanied his dragging footsteps.

Ritsuka hadn't sent any kind of message. He hadn't called. Maybe he hadn't even noticed that Soubi had broken his promise to accompany Ritsuka, Yuiko and Yayoi to the ice cream parlour after school.

Be it out of nosy concern, wrath, or selfish desires, before he'd at least known his absence was noted.

Sagging down on his bed, Soubi dully stared down at the phone held in his limp hand. 'Ritsuka...'

'Soubi!'

'Ritsuka?'

The door flung open, and in stormed Ritsuka, cat tail and chest puffed up. Soubi rose clumsily, blinking at the sudden appearance. 'Rit-'

'Where were you?' The entirety of Soubi's sensitized body felt the accusatory prod that Ritsuka gave his chest.

'I'm sorry, Ritsuka,' he said with a weak smile, clammy hand closing lightly on his Sacrifice's raised one to discourage more poking. 'I-'

He wanted to say more, but Ritsuka's flesh felt so searingly hot against his own, and he was abruptly taken aback at Ritsuka's sudden appearance, his proximity. His skin to Soubi's.

'Did Ritsuka miss me?' Soubi's voice tuned as soft as his touch was, cradling Ritsuka's hand in his sweaty palm.

Ritsuka looked flustered, swiftly going on the defensive. 'Well- _you_ promised you'd be there! And you didn't come! And-And I couldn't ask my friends to wait around for _you_, so we... had to go without you.' He stuck his chin out defiantly, silently daring Soubi to be affronted at being denied ice cream.

'And then you came to check on me?' Reluctant though his languid body was to move, Soubi just had to touch that flaring cheek.

Ritsuka frowned up at Soubi, anger flagging into confusion. 'What's wrong with you?'

His smaller hand covered Soubi's, still resting on his cheek. 'Your hand's really warm.' Bright eyes scanned Soubi's face, frown etching itself a little deeper, and ears perking in alertness. 'And you look flushed! Soubi, are you sick?'

Wrapping his long arms around the teen's shoulders, Soubi let himself slump backwards onto the bed, pulling Ritsuka with him. He disregarded the deep aches that wracked his body as the squirming, protesting Ritsuka collapsed against his chest. 'Soubi! What's wrong with you?'

'Nothing, Ritsuka. I'm fine now.'

**A/N: Thank you very much for reading! Hopefully my next update will be quicker.  
**


	38. Obliging

**CENTENNIALS**

**200: Obliging**

It was barely a minute after his last message when the phone in his lap rang.

'Hello?'

'Nisei.'

Nisei smiled, as he always did at his own daring in moments such as this. No doubt the mirth in his voice would be evident. 'Ah, Seimei! Did you get my text?'

'I did.'

'Good! So you're coming over?'

'No. As I already informed you in my messages.'

'Aww, c'mon,' Nisei slumped back in his chair, lilting voice aimed at the ceiling, 'You know you want to.' He would make sure of that.

Seimei's responding chuckle was dry with condescension. 'I thought you would know better than to be presumptuous.'

Fully aware of the ire lurking behind Seimei's calm façade, Nisei replied jovially, 'And I thought it was a Fighter's job to know what his Sacrifice wants?'

'Nisei, I'm not going to repeat mys-'

'Could you hang on for a moment? I'm getting another call.'

Nisei took the time to leisurely withdraw and light a cigarette before taking the phone off hold.

'Could you repeat that? I didn't catch that last thing.'

'You will be waiting for me when I arrive, Nisei.'

He grinned madly. 'Sure thing, Seimei. Whatever you want.'

**A/N: **Thank you very much to anyone that took the time to read. :)


	39. Expressionism

**CENTENNIALS**

**100: Expressionism**

'Soubi, what is your definition of art?'

'Art is creating an outward manifestation of the artist's inner-personal perceptions. It's the artist's goal to convey-'

'-how they experience reality, and their own place within it. Is that not what you wanted to say?'

'Yes, Seimei.'

'That is precisely what's written here in the introduction page of your art-history book. Did I ask what definition they taught you in school?'

'No, Seimei.'

'You wouldn't lie to me, would you now?'

'No, Seimei. Never.'

'Then you will answer my question. The truth, Soubi. What is your definition of art?'

'You are.'

**A/N: **Thank you very much for your time.


	40. Joyous

**CENTENNIALS**

**700: Joyous **

'What are you looking at?'

A gentle touch to his shoulder made Ristuka jump. Soubi was smiling at him, eyes soft, with his arm draped lightly over Ritsuka's shoulder.

Ritsuka shrugged in a semi-dismissive fashion – Soubi's hand was not persuaded to move by the jostle – then pointed at the colourful charm laying on the gravel of the park road.

It was a small phone pendant in the shape of a butterfly. The metal wings were coloured girlish pastel pinks and yellows. What had made Ritsuka stop to look were the faux eyes that adorned the wings. Looking at it, he could only describe the blue colour of the small circles as _gentle. _

Soubi bent at the knees to bring his face level with that of his Sacrifice, gaze following Ritsuka's finger. 'Do you wish to have it?'

He made to pick it up, stopping when Ritsuka gave a shake of his head.

'It's not something for me,' Ritsuka mumbled, more to himself than to Soubi. Other boys in school would probably think him odd if he brought something with that colour scheme.

'You don't want it?' Soubi's eyes found Ritsuka's, and the teen was forcibly reminded why the blue on the metal charm seemed to beckon him with such kindness.

Ritsuka gave another awkward shrug. 'It's not that. It's...' He didn't finish, looking back down to the ground.

'Do you think it's dirtied, since it has been used and discarded?' Ritsuka wasn't sure why it filled him with such a profound sadness when Soubi's smile waned.

'It's not that,' he said, 'But it already belongs to someone, doesn't it? Otherwise it couldn't have ended up here.'

Crunching forward a step over the gravel, Ritsuka stooped to pick up the pendant. It lay comfortably in his hand, blue looking up at him patiently for a decision. Righting, Ritsuka's eyes met another pair of blue doing the very same thing.

Ritsuka placed the trinket on the seat of the nearest wooden bench, in plain sight for passersby. 'We'll leave it here, so that the owner can find it if they come looking.'

Soubi only nodded, silently smoking while he trailed after Ritsuka. The latter was preoccupied with telling himself sternly that he didn't mind abandoning it, and that he should forget about it.

For some reason, it was still on the edge of Ritsuka's thoughts when he made it to the school gates the next day.

'Good morning, Ritsuka.'

Ritsuka wheeled around, surprised at unexpectedly hearing that familiar voice. 'Soubi? What are you doing here?'

Soubi knelt to be on eye level, extending his hand. "I wanted to give you this.'

In Soubi's palm lay the butterfly joy pendant. However, Ritsuka leaned in a little closer to inspect it, it looked repainted.

The pinks were now a mix of reds- burgundy blending into a delicate wine colour. The weak yellows were replaced with the striking orange hues of a setting sun. The only things left untouched were the periwinkle eyes in the centre of the wings. Their penetrating colour, icy without being cold, made them stand out all the clearer among the warm reds.

'I went back to check,' Soubi's voice was tender, 'No one had come to claim it.'

'You went back for it?' Ritsuka gingerly took the pendant from Soubi, eyes wide. Soubi nodded, smile undiminished.

'I wanted to make it your own, Ritsuka.' Soubi's larger hands closed around Ritsuka's, thumb caressing his skin to move over the coloured metal. 'Things don't always have to stay the same. It's far from perfect, but I wanted to give it to Ritsuka in a way he would be happiest with it.'

Ritsuka caught a rare glimpse of insecurity when Soubi glanced at him before lowering his eyes with the hushed query: 'Do you like it?'

Ritsuka imitated Soubi's action of stroking his finger over the pendant's surface, feeling the faint lines that the hairs of Soubi's brush had left in the paint. He realized he liked the added layer of small imperfections, giving a more natural feel to what would otherwise only be a cold facsimile of a butterfly.

'I love it,' Ritsuka beamed, relishing the sparkle of gentle blue.

**A/N: Thank you very much for reading! **


	41. 5 New Messages

**CENTENNIALS  
100: 5 New Messages (or: Kryptonite)**

FROM: Kio  
Sou-chan! You took my cigarettes again! Where is the pack I left at your place?!

FROM: Soubi  
I've told you not to leave your things at my apartment.

FROM: Kio  
You'll regret this.

FROM: Soubi  
Of course.

FROM: Ritsuka  
Soubi! Kio just texted that you've been skipping classes!

FROM: Soubi  
That's not true. I have been attending all my classes. Just like you wanted, Ritsuka.

FROM: Ritsuka  
Don't lie! Don't come over for the rest of the week. Focus on school! That's an order!

FROM: Soubi  
I'll bring you a new pack tomorrow.

FROM: Kio  
Make that two.

**A/N: Just a little thing as I try to get back into the swing of writing. Thank you for reading!**


	42. Deprived

**CENTENNIALS  
1000: Deprived**

For what he is sure was the hundredth time that night, Ritsuka swats Soubi's hand away from him. 'Stop that!'

'I'm only trying to help,' Soubi murmurs, a shimmer in his eyes that promises nothing like assistance.

'How are you helping?' Ritsuka hisses, cat ears flat as he awkwardly tries to pull his legs up onto the seat of his chair. Sitting crossed-legged on the floor besides him, Soubi's smile is undiminished.

'I was helping Ritsuka relax,' he retorts sanguinely, long-fingered hand sneakily rising to play with the tip of an unsuspecting Ritsuka's cat tail.

The sudden sensation tickling along his tail makes Ritsuka jump from his chair, deciding it was too indefensible a perch. He puts a few steps between Soubi and himself to glare at the blond. 'What's wrong with you today? You've been acting weird all afternoon!'

Soubi's smile only broadens, and Ritsuka notices how his fingers keep curling and uncurling in his lap. 'I'm grateful to be with Ritsuka. I love you. If you're not comfortable sitting in your chair, you can sit here.'

Faster than Ritsuka expects him to move, Soubi leans forward, hand shooting out to clasp Ritsuka's own. Though quick, Soubi's large hand does not squeeze or crush, utilizing Ritsuka's surprise to gently coax him forward. Once in range, Soubi wraps his other arm around Ritsuka's waist and unceremoniously pulls the teen into his lap.

'Soubi!' Ritsuka squeals, cringing sharply at the thought of hurting Soubi when he falls to his knees onto the man's crossed legs. 'What are you doing?!'

'Don't you want a place to sit? I want Ritsuka to be comfortable. Tell me what you need of me,' Soubi's voice crooned disconcertingly close to Ritsuka's ear. Soft breath tickling against his face makes a shiver scuttle down Ritsuka's spine, leaving a warmth in its wake that confuses him even more than the man's odd behaviour. The smooth baritone timbre of Soubi's voice remains unchanged, but his words spill out more rushed, hands rubbing incessant circles on Ritsuka's back.

'I don't want to sit _on_ you! You're not a chair, Soubi,' Ritsuka gasps, face flushing while he plants his hands on Soubi's shoulders to push himself a safe distance away from the blond's face.

'I'm whatever Ritsuka needs me to be. You need but give me the order. There's nothing I can't do if it's for Ritsuka,' Soubi assures him sagely, seizing the opportunity to run a light caress over ebony cat ears now that Ritsuka's hands are out of the way. Another shudder coils around Ritsuka's backbone like a live wire, gentle fingers on his sensitive ears eating away at his resolve to create more distance

'You're acting ridiculous,' Ritsuka doesn't understand why his voice suddenly sounds so weak. Determination returning not to let Soubi play him like a fool, Ritsuka intends to push the Fighterr's hands away. He should have expected Soubi to move before Ritsuka has the chance to grab his hands, Soubi instead wrapping his arms around Ritsuka's middle to pull the teen to his chest.

'May I please hold you for a little while? Just a little while?' Soubi's breath ghosts against Ritsuka's cheek, stirring bangs already dishevelled from squirming.

As Ritsuka draws breath to vocalize his objections – loudly – he suddenly stills. To his aggravated embarrassment, Ritsuka is no stranger to feeling Soubi's breath so close. Something was different.

Dislodging Soubi's embrace to sit up in the other's lap, Ritsuka takes Soubi's face in his hands, and leans in. Soubi's entire body freezes beneath him, the Fighter's hands suspended mid-motion in the air besides him. Placid grey eyes widen as Ritsuka's face nears.

As the space between them shrinks, Soubi's lips fall open, and Ritsuka swears he hears a faint gasp. With their mouths so close that they breathe each other's exhales, Ritsuka stares intently. Long seconds pass with nothing but the sensation of Soubi's breath on his lips.

'Ritsuka...?' Soubi's voice is but a whisper. Still hanging in mid air, his hands are trembling.

Ritsuka frowns. 'When was the last time you smoked?'

Soubi stares for several moments, stymied. 'Excuse me?'

'When was the last time you had a cigarette, Soubi?' Ritsuka sits back more, allowing them both extra space. He is still acutely aware of the fact that he is occupying the older man's lap, cheeks palpably radiating heat with each beat of his hastened heart.

It takes longer than usual before Soubi's soft-spoken voice replies: 'Ritsuka doesn't like it when I smoke, so yesterday I-' he breaks off when Ritsuka abruptly rises.

'Go buy cigarettes,' Ritsuka orders huffily, pointing at his bedroom window.

The confusion is evident in the crease of Soubi's forehead as he looks up at his Sacrifice. 'I don't understand. I thought it would please you.'

'You're driving me mad, Soubi!' Ritsuka whines, stomping a socked foot as he throws up his hands. 'You're impossible when you're nicotine deprived!' With a pout, he can't help but add the jibe: 'Even more than you already are.'

Though still looking mildly confused, Soubi nods, rising obediently to put on his coat. Passing Ritsuka on his way to the window, he suddenly stops, backtracking a step.

'Thank you, Ritsuka.' There is the thump of his knee connecting with the carpeted floor as Soubi lowers himself in front of Ritsuka to be on eye-level. Without preamble, Soubi's lips are suddenly melded against Ritsuka's own. A warm hand strokes up the teen's neck, holding the kiss just long enough for Soubi to sigh happily against Ritsuka's lips.

Ritsuka stumbles back a step when their mouths separate, tingling lips parted. The scarlet colour of his face makes the whites of his round eyes all the more prominent as he stares at Soubi, stammering, 'W-What the hell do you think you're doing?'

'Don't be angry,' Soubi's eyes gleam as he smiles his restrained smile, 'I can't help myself. Like Ritsuka said: I'm deprived.' With a final peck to Ritsuka's forehead, Soubi vanishes out the window.

**A/N: **Thank you to anyone that took the time to read or comment. :)


	43. Fool

**CENTENNIALS  
900: Fool**

It was true that Ritsu didn't rightly remember the last time he'd sat in a café. Passing years had made him increasingly reclusive, the Seven Moons Academy supplying all his requirements. He found few reasons to remove himself from the grandeur of the school grounds, and the – begrudging – respect that his notoriety garnered among most pupils and staff.

Curiosity had weighed more heavily than these creature comforts, however, after receiving a message from Soubi. All the text contained was a date, time, and an address, followed by the cryptic invitation: "_There's something you have to know." _All of Ritsu's subsequent messages requesting more information were ignored, Soubi's phone remaining unanswered when he called.

The café that Soubi had designated as their rendezvous point was a long and aggravating journey for Ritsu. With Nagisa the only one of his staff peers that would consider aiding him in his travel, since he lacked a car, Ritsu had opted for two long hours of public transport over one hour in a vehicle with that loud woman.

Adjusting in his seat, Ritsu smoothed over the sleeve of the barely-worn jacket he was donning. He was hardly one to change into a more dressy apparel for a meeting, but Soubi's message had certainly been unusual. Although Ritsu disapproved of the brusque way the message was brought to him, he was undoubtedly intrigued.

Soubi-kun so rarely wished to speak to him, let alone see him. For the blond to suggest the place of meeting was unprecedented. With a thin smile, Ritsu mused to himself that it was common for students to eventually gravitate back to their teachers, the ones that had helped shape them so.

Oh, and how enjoyable it had been to shape Soubi. Even Ritsu was surprised how clear his memories of Soubi were, despite the many years, and many faces of students that had followed their time together.

Ritsu had always derived great pleasure from simply observing his most prized creation. Every one of Soubi's movements exuded a graceful control, none of the blond's gestures wasted. Amidst his impassive face, Soubi's pale eyes could still glimmer with fierce emotion before they were respectfully averted. Ritsu didn't mind. For him, it had always served as clear proof of the efficacy of his training. He alone was responsible for forging that silent strength, the dignified control that Soubi replaced his emotional imperfections with.

In secret, Ritsu had always considered it fitting that Soubi was an artist. Who better could appreciate art than someone that was personally crafted as Ritsu's art of the flesh and the soul?

Pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, Ritsu glanced around with a widening of his meagre smile. Their time of meeting was upon them, and he had taught Soubi-kun the importance of rigid punctuality from a young age. There was no sign of that blond mane anywhere.

Minutes passed, each one feeling appallingly longer than the last as they added to Soubi's uncharacteristic tardiness. Ritsu had to fend off the café staff three times as they came to offer a replenishment of the tea he had ordered upon arrival, long since finished. No smile remained on Ritsu's face when he produced his cellphone and selected Soubi's number. It didn't even ring, passing straight to voice mail.

Ritsu's tone sounded as thin as his patience felt when he began to leave a message: 'Soubi-kun, it's–'

'Ritsu-sensei?' The unsure query was certainly not delivered in the level tones of Soubi's voice. Raising an eyebrow, Ritsu lowered his phone to turn to the busboy standing by his table.

'Are you Ritsu-sensei?' The man looked no older than Soubi, with black hair, and deep green eyes.

With a nod, Ritsu curtly answered, 'I am.'

Smiling politely, the staff member extended a neatly folded note to him. 'Someone came by yesterday, and told me to deliver this to you.'

Ritsu's brow knitted as his frown deepened, but he accepted the piece of paper. He was about to fold it open when he realized the messenger hadn't moved yet. 'Is there anything else I can do for you?'

A faint blush crept up the man's neck from beneath his collar, and he sounded flustered when he answered: 'W-Well, you see, sir... the man from yesterday said that you might... have something for me?' His eyes darted away from Ritsu and back again, pitch of his voice rising in implication. 'For my troubles? He- He said it was important you should get it.' He nodded gravely at the assertion, clearly tying to convince Ritsu of his crucial service.

Ritsu's responding stare was hard. The man fidgeted some more, but seemed otherwise determined to receive the tip that had been promised to him.

'This had better be good, Soubi-kun,' Ritsu murmured lowly, pulling out his wallet to push a few bills across the table in the man's direction. 'Now go.'

'Thanks!' With a bright smile, the server quickly snatched up the money, and darted away.

Alone again, Ritsu returned his focus to the paper. It was small, just a scrap rather than a full page. With definite curiosity, Ritsu unfolded it, finally wanting to know what was so important for Soubi to say, in order to drag Ritsu away from school for all this.

He wasn't sure how long he stared at the two words written in Soubi's slanting handwriting.

_April fools. _

**Author's note: **I figured Soubi deserves victory over Ritsu, however small. :) Thank you very much for your time, and I hope you enjoyed.


	44. Foolish

Note: This is a continuation on the previous chapter 'Fool.' Written in response to an idea that came to mind after a comment from Dragonzombie333. :)

**CENTENNIALS  
800: Foolish**

'Ah, Soubi-kun.'

The winds of early spring were still sharp, but the edge to that familiar voice was more lethal, effortlessly cutting through the gusts. Having been focussed on making his way home as quickly as possible, Soubi hadn't spotted the silvery-haired figure blocking the pavement before him.

It took effort for Soubi to make his acknowledgement sound bored. 'Sensei.'

Ritsu's hands were preoccupied with cleaning his glasses. How often had Soubi watched those pale-fingered hands meticulously circle the piece of fine cloth over glass lenses? With sudden realization, Soubi snapped up his eyes. Seimei would not allow him to lower his eyes for another. Beloved did not show weakness.

'I don't have time for you. Seimei is waiting for me.' With his chin determinedly held high, Soubi brushed past Ritsu.

'I wish to talk to you.'

That voice. Ritsu's detached voice slithered across Soubi's skin, trickling down the indented streaks of scars running across his back. The baritone drawl twisted around Soubi's spine, making the Fighter turn on the spot in response. He didn't like having his back to this man.

'Seimei is waiting for me.' It felt more like a mantra for Soubi to draw strength from, rather than a retort. He mentally chimed the words a third time when Ritsu slipped his spectacles back onto the narrow bridge of his nose. Staring straight into the angular features of his sensei, Soubi's superior height still left him feeling small.

'If you so value being of service to your Sacrifice, Soubi-kun, you should really visit me at the school for us to go over the finer points of your training again.' There was no forceful anger behind Ritsu's tone, yet his words were dripping with malicious intent.

Replacing the cloth with which he'd cleaned his glasses in his coat pocket, Ritsu instead held a small scrap of paper when his hand emerged again. He did not comment on it, did not draw further attention to it, but simply held it. Soubi was reminded of the way Ritsu would sometimes hold the whip while educating him, whether he intended to use it or not. Ritsu believed in wordless reminders.

Each passing second made it harder for Soubi to keep meeting that gaze. Ritsu's pale eyes reminded him of blank days, filled with no colour but scarlet. No ambiguous grey had been left in him, the existence crafted by Ritsu a study in contrasts. Black or white. Total surrender, or a nameless void.

Seimei. _Seimei. _The repetition of that blessed name was the only thing keeping Soubi anchored, keeping him from toppling into a tempest of memories. 'Seimei disciplines me as he sees fit. It has nothing to do with you.'

'I made you.' Soubi hadn't moved, but he could still feel his body freeze at how pitiless Ritsu's stare was at the simple statement. 'Say what you will, think what you will. I made you, Soubi-kun. I merely allow Seimei to borrow you. I own you.'

_No._ In Soubi's mind, the denial was spoken with utter conviction, but the tightness of scarred skin kept his jaws from moving. Only once in his life, in his early teens, had Soubi outright refuted that claim.

'Seimei marked me with his name.' Yes. Seimei. Beloved Seimei. ' I am his Fighter, and he is my Sacrifice. I belong to Seimei.'

To Soubi's astonishment – and gratification – Ritsu averted his eyes. It was only for moment, gaze moving to placidly look over Soubi's shoulder before it resettled on him. Soubi could not recall Ritsu ever having been the one to break eye contact first.

This man was not his Sacrifice. This man no longer had control over Soubi's life. The thought alone brought a strange sense of liberation. Soubi had Seimei, and he would never need anything apart from his Sacrifice. Ritsu no longer held any sway. Drawing himself up to his full height, Soubi stated in a level voice: 'I am Beloved.'

Ritsu smiled. 'Is that so?'

'_Soubi!' _

The anger that made Seimei's voice crack like a whip felt like a physical blow. Spinning around, Soubi found Seimei standing several paces away. Though still chilled, the winds were not responsible for the rare colour that was beginning to darken Seimei's slanting cheeks. Even from a distance, it was clear how vitriolic displeasure etched deeper the lines of his Sacrifice's youthful features. His stomach plummeting, Soubi stared into the mask of ill-concealed rage that was Seimei's face.

Soubi could not tear his eyes away from the gaze of his master, darkened with the promise of excruciating discipline, but Ritsu's droning voice still made itself clearly heard.

'Here I was labouring under the impression that a dedicated Fighter would not forget about his Sacrifice in favour of his old sensei. How foolish of me.'

**A/N: **As ever: thank you so much for your time.


	45. Nepotism

**CENTENNIALS  
800: Nepotism**

Other pedestrians hastily got out of Soubi's way as he rushed through the streets. He didn't care if he bumped shoulders with anyone, ignoring all the looks of disapproval. Soubi didn't care about any of them. The only one he cared about was Seimei.

In the middle of his afternoon lecture, Soubi's phone had lit up, signalling a message from Seimei.

'I'm not feeling well,' Soubi had lied, deadpan, at his professor's annoyed questions. He didn't bother hiding how he flipped open his phone as he stepped into the hallway. No one else could understand how important this was.

The message was longer than usual, instructing Soubi to go to Seimei's house in order to retrieve something for his Sacrifice. _Now._ Soubi didn't bother returning to the classroom for his belongings. It would only elicit more pointless queries. Besides, he knew Kio would begrudgingly see to them, should Soubi not return to school today.

Nearly an hour later, Soubi was hastening down the street to the designated meeting point. He knew that the small black pouch he now clutched securely contained a digital camera, recognizing the contours when he took it from Seimei's desk – exactly where the message had told him it was.

Despite the glares of passers-by, despite the knowledge he was in trouble with his professor, not to mention Kio, Soubi was happy. Seimei was not like other Sacrifices. Most bonded pairs spent nearly every waking hour together. More often than not, Seimei only called on Soubi for spell battles.

As much as Soubi enjoyed pleasing his master with their undisputed victories, he often – selfishly – wished Seimei would want him around for more than just battles. Even if it was merely to fetch something Seimei needed, Soubi was excited to see more of his Beloved. Without battle and blood this time.

Soubi's rushing feet carried him to a park, patches of students, and mothers with children bustling about like sprouting flowers. Moving his eyes over the grassy expanse, Soubi tried to _feel_ more than he looked. _There!_ A jolt in the pit of his stomach signalled the presence of his Sacrifice before Soubi's eyes had truly recognized that familiar set of cat ears.

As Soubi neared, Seimei didn't seem to notice him, attention turned elsewhere. While he approached, Soubi marvelled how Seimei's regal confidence could make even the humble wooden bench he sat on look like a throne.

Halting before his god, Soubi murmured his benediction: 'Seimei?'

No matter how much time he spent around his Sacrifice, the beauty of the dark-haired teen still astounded Soubi. The simple way with which Seimei turned his head towards his Fighter exuded pure grace, liquid muscle beneath flawless skin. Being an artist, Soubi was hopelessly addicted to taking in such a resplendent sight.

'Here, Seimei. I brought it like you wished.' Offering the compact camera bag with both hands, Soubi smiled. His lips were cracked apart, breath still heavy after such a long time hurrying across town.

Around them, the park was sun-kissed, but the next moment, that seemed woefully dark compared to the beaming smile that lit up Seimei's face, Soubi's breath dying in his throat. Those sculpted features that were so often etched with disdain when around Soubi were set aglow with beatific radiance.

The small moment that those dark eyes, containing a hitherto unseen twinkle, met Soubi's was nearly enough to send him to his knees. Silently, Soubi cursed the fact that the feeling of reverence that thrummed through his body made his hands tremble as they held the proffered camera. Cool, dry fingers brushing against his when Seimei took the offering made Soubi shudder, skin tingling with awareness after such a small touch.

Soubi's lips were parted, poised to speak, though his mind was still grappling for what prayer his god might accept from him. 'Seimei...'

'Ritsuka.' Just like that, Seimei's sacred visage was turned away from him. 'Ritsuka!'

Gravel crunched, Soubi stepping back on instinct to allow his Sacrifice respectful room as Seimei rose from the bench.

The light-bathed world eclipsed around Soubi. Motionlessly, he watched the one light of his existence slowly draw away from him. Not a single, blessed word was spoken, nor a second glance given, be it with approval or condemnation.

The target of Seimei's undivided focus was the owner of an identical pair of black cat ears. The younger teen that came bounding towards Seimei looked so much like him, right down to the luminescent smile when Seimei pulled him into a tight hug to say:

'Look, Ritsuka. It turns out I did have your camera with me, after all. Now we can take pictures like you wanted. Just the two of us.'

With a stinging of his eyes, Soubi stared at the dark side of the sun.

Author's Note: Thank you very much for your time! All comments are welcome. :) With special thanks to my girlfriend for the beta work, as always.


	46. 6 New Messages

**CENTENNIALS  
100: 6 New Messages**

FROM: Soubi  
Ritsuka, you left your school bag at my place. Shall I bring it over?

FROM: Ritsuka  
I was just looking for it! I'm sorry, Soubi. It's not too much trouble? It's so late already.

FROM: Soubi  
I'm on my way. Anything for you. Especially if Ritsuka decides to reward me with a kiss.

FROM: Ritsuka  
I'll think about it...

FROM: Ritsuka  
Wait! We were never at your place today! Why is my bag over there?

FROM: Soubi  
Because I took it with me this afternoon when we left the park. I'll be there soon to collect my kiss!

Author's Note: With huge, huge thanks to my reviewers for your kind words! It's extremely motivating, and makes me want to write all the more. As always: thank you very much for your time.


	47. Killing With Kindness

**CENTENNIALS  
500: Killing With Kindness**

In some ways, Ritsuka was the most cruel master that Soubi had served.

_'Punish me.' _

Only with Ritsuka did Soubi ever utter those words. It would never have occurred to him to say such a thing to Ritsu, or to Seimei. They had never needed the reminder.

'You can punish me if I have displeased you, Ritsuka,' Soubi murmured, watching anger steadily rise in the other's features, forming blotchy redness that quickly fanned out across Ritsuka's cheeks.

Of course, Ritsuka never took Soubi up on this assertion. Not in the way Soubi was used to, at least.

'I want you to stop fighting on your own, Soubi! I don't want to punish you!' Ritsuka's voice was more akin to a whine. When he thumped his balled fists on his knees, it was only half-heartedly, anger noticeably flagging into exasperation.

There was silence for a moment. Mentally, Soubi chastised himself for being so distracted by the lamenting thought that Ritsuka's thigh was just short of touching his own as they sat on Soubi's bed. Chancing a caress over his Sacrifice's lower back, Soubi explained gently: 'It is discipline. For Ritsuka to teach me.'

'But-!' Soubi was taken aback to hear the word come out a choked sob. Beneath his hand still on Ritsuka's back, Soubi felt a tremor run through the teen's form.

Ritsuka's gaze, wide-eyed with distress, snapped to Soubi's face. Twisting towards his Fighter, Ritsuka leaned closer with a pleading expression on his face. One of the teen's hands came up to weakly grab at the front of Soubi's shirt, while the other landed on the blond's thigh for support as Ritsuka leaned in close.

'Why would I hurt you when I'm upset that you're getting hurt by fighting alone?!' He sounded weepy. 'Don't you get it, Soubi?! I don't want you to be in pain!'

Soubi didn't know what to say, but that wasn't due to Ritsuka's words. It was Ritsuka's hand on his thigh that made Soubi swallow laboriously, throat feeling inexplicably parched. Even through the course material of his pants, Soubi was painfully aware of every individual finger with which Ritsuka thoughtlessly clasped at him.

Ritsuka's face – that angelic, innocent, soulful face – now hovered so close to Soubi. He could see a shimmer of unshed tears in those warm eyes. Tears stemming from Ritsuka's feelings for Soubi as he entreated the blond to heed him.

'Understood,' Soubi ground out hoarsely, 'Whatever Ritsuka wishes.'

Albeit watery, Ritsuka's responding smile made Soubi quiver on the inside, mesmerised by how _happy_ his words seemed to make the other. Warm fingers unwittingly shifted more towards Soubi's inner thigh, Ritsuka closing the last of the distance between their mouths for a fleeting peck of velveteen lips.

Not long afterwards, when he was alone, Soubi mused on the special brand of discipline wielded by his clueless little master. The cold shower he was forced to take after Ritsuka's intoxicating presence so very close was an entirely novel agony for Soubi.

Author's Note: Thank you very much for your time, and once again massive thanks to all my kind reviewers. Truly. :)


	48. Celebrations III

August 3rd, 2013: Updated to add a content page for this story thread.

**CENTENNIALS  
500: Celebrations III**

'Sou-chan! Oi! Soubi! Don't you walk away from me, I know you can hear me! If you ignore me, I'm going back to school right now, and I'm going to cover all your paintings with doodles of big, hairy, veiny c-'

'Kio.' With a long-suffering sigh, Soubi halted, turning on the pavement to watch Kio approach. The other blond was stomping as he marched closer, both hands tightly fisted at his sides, wearing an impressive scowl. 'What is it?'

'Why haven't you answered my calls?! I've been trying to get in touch with you for four days!' Kio barked, prodding Soubi in the chest. The handles of a plastic bag were clenched in his grip, its content bumping against the Fighter's stomach as it dangled from Kio's hand.

Looking unperturbed at his friend's rude behaviour, Soubi slipped his hands into his coat pockets. 'I've been busy,' he said.

'Too busy to answer the door when I came by _five_ _times?!' _The bag in Kio's hand hissed his vehemence, the shorter man gesticulating angrily. 'Dammit, Soubi, it was _important!_ I left you tons of messages beforehand to let you know that I wanted to see you yesterday! But let me guess – you had to go traipsing after that Aoyagi kid!'

Lips tightening, Soubi withdrew a cigarette and leisurely lit it, forcing Kio to wait before he answered: 'Seimei needed me.'

'For what?! What did the two of you do?!' Kio snapped.

Eyes turning hard, Soubi levelled Kio a long look. When he spoke, his voice was aloof, distant. 'It has nothing to do with you, Kio. Seimei wanted me for something, and that's all you need to know. Whatever reason you had for wanting to see me, I'm sure waiting a day won't make a difference.'

With an actual cry of frustration, Kio fisted his hair, managing to bump the content of the plastic bag into his own face as it swung wildly in his grasp. 'You're impossible, Soubi! You-! You're-!'

Giving his head a frantic shake, Kio glowered at Soubi again, eyes alight with intensity. 'Fine! Don't start whining that this is late!' He roughly shoved the plastic bag into Soubi's chest.

Inside, Soubi found a neatly wrapped gift, decorated with a bow. When Soubi opened the package, he found a simplistic metal case. The corners were rounded, carved lines branching out over its smooth surface in organic-looking decorative patterns. Spotting small hinges on the side, Soubi picked it up from the box and opened it, seeing it was in fact a picture frame that could be discretely closed.

With the ghost of a frown, Soubi looked at the other, who still stood visibly steaming. In response, Kio gestured disdainfully towards the gift. 'I figured you could keep that one picture of the Aoyagi brat in there that you're always hiding around your place.

'Happy birthday, you jackass!' Kio spat, turning and storming off with a stream of muttered insults aimed at his best friend in the world.

Author's Note: I know it's nowhere near Soubi's birthday, but the theme of celebrations was on my mind due to the fact that yesterday, the 25th of May 2013, marked the three year anniversary since I posted my first Loveless fic - something that in time brought me the amazing fortune of meeting the love of my life.

Thank you very much for your time!


	49. Good Day

**CENTENNIALS**

**700: Good Day**

Soubi sighed. The smoke stretching from his lips came out like gangly fingers, jittery in the play of brisk winds before swiftly dissolving. It was with a degree of restlessness that the blond realized he only had one cigarette left in the package.

With aching knees, Soubi readjusted his position yet again. He mused that the tiny balcony had likely only been added to the house because it looked good on the floor plan. In the confined space, there was no way for the lanky Fighter to stretch out his legs as he sat. If he wasn't trying to remain hidden from passers-by, Soubi would have stood to lean on the balustrade as he smoked.

The concrete flooring had long since made his rear go numb, most of his joints nagging with voices of dull pain. Chills seeped into his flesh from the glass pane that rested against his back, and the heat he inhaled through his cigarette failed to warm him.

How long had it been? Soubi wasn't sure. It didn't matter. Although Kio wouldn't agree with that, if the number of missed calls and ignored texts were any indication. Soubi didn't need to be reminded of tomorrow's due date for his painting. So the Fighter would have to forego sleep in order to finish his project. It wouldn't be the first time.

While the sun had been bright and strong when Soubi had settled there on the balcony, the hues of light cast on the surrounding houses were now a myriad of deepening yellows. Turning up his collar, Soubi reflected that he had no jacket to fend off the dip in temperatures as the day's warmth withdrew behind the horizon. Leaning back his head, Soubi tried to relax, focussing on the shapes of purple clouds, rather than the sub-dermal itch of his body demanding more freedom of movement.

His attempt was disrupted when the picturesque skies before him abruptly tilted, the glass Soubi was leaning against sliding aside. In the next moment, the back of Soubi's neck connected with something far warmer, his torso sagging backwards from the sudden lack of support.

Looking up, Soubi's breath hitched in his throat. Seimei hovered over him, his visage awash with the warm colours of gentle sunset. Sheens of orange danced along jet black locks of hair when Seimei delicately cocked his head at Soubi. The scarlet of encroaching eve melded with deep, dark eyes, like a lick of sparks, flames just visible through mysterious smoke.

Soubi was very much aware it were Seimei's knees that the back of his head rested against, but he sought refuge in the fact that he had not been ordered to move. Keeping his face impassive, he merely waited for whatever Seimei would decide to do.

'Are you still here?' Seimei's amiable voice held a note of boredom, but that was not what drew Soubi's attention. What caught his eye was the way Seimei's smile deepened at the corners of his mouth. His gaze was fixated on his Fighter.

That stare pinned Soubi more helplessly than any butterfly. For once, he didn't think them disgusting for it. He wanted it. Soubi wanted to be skewered by those eyes, to be created into the prize Seimei would keep forever.

Forever lasted all too briefly now. With his pleased smile undiminished, Seimei vaguely gestured to the balcony railing. 'Go away.'

Giving a single nod, Soubi rose on unwilling legs. Nerve endings screeched to life with the sensation of pins and needles when blood flow returned, many cramped muscles making themselves known. The sliding door had already clicked shut again before Soubi was fully righted, drawn curtains robbing Seimei from sight. First taking the time to light another cigarette, smoke again accompanied Soubi's sigh.

Smiling around the filter, Soubi ran a touch over the back of his head. He clearly recalled the feel of his master's body while looking up, seeing the flash of greedy approval in Seimei's eyes at finding his Fighter waiting for him. He had seen Seimei. In a way, they had even spoken.

Mentally, Soubi decided that it had been a good day. If he was very fortunate, tomorrow would be just as good.

Author's Note: With many, many thanks to all the kind reviewers out there, and also much thanks to my beta, Ishkhanuhi.


	50. 7 New Messages

**CENTENNIALS**

**100: 7 New Messages**

FROM: Soubi  
I'm thinking many perverted thoughts about you, Ritsuka.

FROM: Ritsuka  
Soubi! What kind of message is that?!

FROM: Soubi  
It's true. I'm a pervert and a masochist. I want you to do dirty things to me.

FROM: Ritsuka  
Stop it!

FROM: Soubi  
Ritsuka, will you spank me?

FROM: Ritsuka  
STOP TEXTING ME!

FROM: Soubi  
I'm very sorry, Ritsuka. Natsuo and Youji took my phone while I was showering. It wasn't me sending those messages. Please believe me.

FROM: Ritsuka  
I could have guessed... I believe you, Soubi.

FROM: Soubi  
Thank you. Ritsuka still hasn't answered the question, though.

**END**

Author's Note: Thank you very much for reading, and many, many thanks to all those that review. 3


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